


Fire Meet Gasoline

by fizzy_absinthe



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Cigarettes, Drama, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Gen romance, Harassment, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Harassment, Smoking, Smut, Workplace sexual harassment in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzy_absinthe/pseuds/fizzy_absinthe
Summary: You work for a contemporary art magazine as a photographer and graphic designer. The office is located one floor above the office of some youtubers; one of them, Dan Avidan, catches your attention.In this chapter, you and Dan are getting downright domestic.BIG IMPORTANT WARNING: Chapter three has one scene of sexual harassment/coercion between an original character (Billy, the reader's asshole boss) and the reader.





	1. Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Admission: i wrote this on my phone while at a family thing. 
> 
> Warning: Reader smokes cigarettes. Don't smoke, kids!

Each day starts the same for you. Up at five in the morning, darting around, getting dressed while hastily scarfing down dry toast for breakfast, trying to gather up your laptop, camera, piles of paperwork, and everything else you need for the day. You always think you could set your alarm earlier so you have more time in the morning, but that means less sleep. Sleep is a precious commodity that Hypnotik Magazine will have to pry from your cold, dead hands.

You rush out of your tiny apartment, shirt untucked, hair in an unkempt bun only barely held together with a spare pen. Climbing into your car feels like mounting up on your war horse before a harrowing, difficult battle. The laptop, expensive camera, and your bag get shotgun while manila folders full of glossy photographs, artist profiles and notes, and itineraries get tossed unceremoniously in the back seat. While hastily blowing strands of loose hair out of your face, already feeling annoyed, you turn the key in the car's ignition and it fights the starter valiantly. But after a few muttered swear words, pumping the gas peddle once, and promising the old Ford Taurus that you will replace it with your next check and have it sitting in a junk yard if it doesn't get its shit together, the engine turns over and you peel out of your parking spot.

"Some day," you say to yourself while the car shakes vigorously, clearly not keen on shifting gears today. "Some day I'm gonna walk right up those stairs and tell Billy to eat shit and find someone else to do his bitch work. I swear to god."

By some blessed act of God, traffic is not too bad this morning. Probably because it's early Sunday morning and most people are off work. Whatever the reason, you find yourself within ten minutes of your work place with a whole half an hour to spare, so you pull into the parking lot of a nearby coffee shop to get a proper breakfast. Billy is hard to take on any day with only toast in your belly, but these days he's unbearable. 

It didn't start out this way. Two years ago you moved out to California with your camera, your bachelor's degree in graphic design, and more chutzpah than money. Which was fine, you managed to find a few freelance jobs photographing weddings, senior portraits, and snapping photos of the various events in your side of LA to sell to newspapers. It certainly wasn't the life you envisioned; your apartment was even smaller than what you had now, barely bigger than a studio with a leaky ceiling, a lingering smell of rotting garbage from your neighbors, and a lovely view of a brick wall that was the building next door. 

There was something about that time that you now found yourself craving as you place your order for a croissant and a small latte. Something about listening to Eye Of The Tiger as you went through photos, feeling determination permeate your soul as the song's bass matched up with your heartbeat. 

Though you certainly do not miss being poor and struggling to find work. So when you found a listing for a job doing photography and odd graphic design work for a contemporary art magazine, called Hypnotik, you sent your resume and portfolio over to Billy Upchurch without bothering to even concern yourself with the ramifications of getting the job. Billy hired you on for a measly ten dollars an hour, paying you a bonus for each photograph you snagged at art exhibits and such. This meant running around the city and paying out the ass to go to art shows, wearing your press badge with Hypnotik's ugly logo on it, taking pictures of artwork you didn't fully get. And it also meant interviewing the artists, if they had time. Most of them were incredibly nice, and very flattered to be interveiwed for a magazine, but it was exhausting.

You finish your breakfast and head out to your car, pleasantly surprised when it starts without fuss. Even better, Jukebox Hero comes on the radio and you crank it up, feeling your mood lift significantly.

It's not so bad. Sure, the pay is shit for the work you're doing, and Billy treats you more like an intern than an employee, but it's better than freelancing. A lot of people never get to find a job doing they love, and you're lucky to have made it this far. 

Some day, though, you'll have your own studio, and Billy will have to find another coffee fetcher.

Arriving at the office, you notice a pack of guys around your age walking in. The building houses several offices, and you know at least a few of them are occupied. You also know that the office below Hypnotik is rented out to a group of youtubers; you're usually much too busy to even acknowledge any of them when you cross paths with them in the staircase, in the parking lot, or anywhere else you might spot them. 

Truthfully, you know you have grown shy these past couple of years. After moving out here, you were uprooted from the people you had known all your life and making new friends took time away from going to art shows and sleeping. Two things you couldn't afford to trim down. So even though you've never spoken a word to the youtubers downstairs, and are not likely to ever do so (unless one of them makes art on the side), you only know them by what you've observed. 

The group walking in is comprised of what you have secretly named the Essential Five Guys. These are the guys that are always coming and going so you see them most often. 

The one leading the group is tall and stocky with shoulder-length hair, the color of dark honey with a blonde streak on one side, and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. He is the loudest; you can hear him yelling something in a funny voice even as you hesitate in your car, eager to watch them all. He keeps looking back at his friends to gauge their reaction to his shouting. 

The next one looks like a pixie. He has short chestnut hair and sharp cheekbones, his eyes are alight with mischief. You feel like this one must cause a lot of trouble. 

After the pixie is the one that is the very image of steady and calm. He has dark hair and a beard, perfectly trimmed, and a kind air about him. His easy smile as he watches the first guy attempt a hitch kick lights up the atmosphere around him. 

Fourth is the older guy with salt and pepper hair and a stern look, though that look is missing as he laughs at the first one. You manage to catch the logo on the shirt he's wearing; TWRP. You wonder what that could stand for, if that's their channel. 

Finally, there's the one you try to deny you were waiting to see. He's as tall as the first one, but thin as a willow branch. His long hair is wildly curly, some of it forming perfect ringlets, some just a frizzy mess. He nudges his glasses up his long nose as he smiles, and your heart flutters wildly. 

You only realize you were staring when the last guy catches your eye, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of boiling hot water over you. You quickly look away, fumbling around with your stuff and practically falling out of the car. Hopefully he'll think you were just getting your things and not actually sitting there, watching the five of them walk in. That would be disastrously embarrassing. 

Flustered as you are, you nearly drop your laptop as you try to get the back door of your car open to get your paperwork. You feel the hot blush creeping up your face, and you can sense a pair of eyes focused on you from behind. You angrily huff as hair falls in your face, and the door finally opens, so you reach in to try and gather everything up with one hand. You're so out of sorts, it's almost like the good start to your day hadn't happened. The laptop slides out of your weak grip and tumbles frightfully to the floor of the car, and in your instinctive move to try and catch it, your camera slips from where the strap was sitting on your shoulder, adding exponentially to your distress.

You set your bag on the seat with more force than is strictly necessary and start shoving folders and loose papers inside haphazardly. Just as you gather up your hardware and turn around, slamming the door shut and trying to tuck errant hair behind your ear, you see him walking towards you in a brisk pace. After all the shenanigans, he's almost made it over to you, and now that you've made eye contact again there's no way to get out of the situation. 

"Hey," he says. You've heard his voice before, usually while goofing off loudly in the building so it's muffled by concrete walls. But having him speak directly to you is surreal. His voice is soft and light, like a feather. It's a bit scratchy, being so early in the morning. But that doesn't detract from the effect it has on you; if anything, the shiver it sends down your spine is only amplified by it. 

You realize he is waiting for you to greet him back, so you clear your throat and automatically adopt the personality you use when interveiwing artists. "Good morning," you say, brisk but with a smile. 

He gestures to your heavy burden. "Need any help?" His crooked smile is like a balm for your frayed nerves. 

You catch the laptop as it attempts to slide out of the crook of your arm again. "Oh, um," you stutter, feeling a little taken aback from his offer. "N-no, I think... I think I have it under control." Your voice flutters weakly so you're sure he couldn't hear most of what you just said. 

"It's no problem," he says, still grinning. He catches the misbehaving laptop with ease, like a cat lazily swatting down a fly, and gestures for you to walk with him. 

You swallow thickly, gather up your meager courage, and start walking alongside him towards the building's entrance. You suddenly don't know what to do with your hands, you wish you had worn a dress shirt with less wrinkles, you try to concentrate on not tripping over your own feet. 

He hitches his own backpack higher up on his shoulder, then offers his hand. "I'm Dan, by the way."

You hastily shake his hand, wincing internally as you do so. "I'm ___." At least now you have a name to go along with the handsome face.

Dan doesn't seem to mind your erratic behavior. He just keeps smiling, looking at you with his sleepy, magnetic eyes. "I always see you running in and out, but I've never had a chance to talk to you. They must keep you pretty busy!"

Work. You can talk about work. The door isn't that far away. You can do this. "They do, but it's better than digging ditches, I reckon." You have to force yourself to not facepalm as the words 'I reckon' slip from your mouth. Typical small town girl. So embarrassing.

Dan just laughs quietly. "That's true. Personally, I'd rather be busy. But it does leave less time for making new friends," he says, lengthening his stride easily to reach the door first, holding it open for you. 

You thank him quietly. He starts walking up the metal stairs alongside you, falling back to match your pace again. "I meet lots of people with my job, but I don't really have time to get to know anyone."

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, unsure of why you divulged this information to him, and how he'll react to it. 

He seems unfazed, nodding as he stares up at the stairs, as though counting them. Is he walking slower? "I know what you mean. I love my job, I wouldn't trade it for the world, but..."

He trails off and the two of you stop on the landing of the second floor. You stare up at him, your mind racing as you try to find something to say. He suddenly looks different; weary, you'd say. He bites his lip, clearly having something on his mind but not sure if he should say it. 

Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, his smile comes back. "Well, anyway. I shouldn't complain. Come on, ___."

Hearing him say your name is like a blessing. You follow him up another flight of stairs and he stops again. "This is my floor," he says, and unless you're imagining it, you detect a hint of sadness to his voice. Nevertheless, you return his smile as you take your laptop back.

He stands there, adorably awkward, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Welp. Um. It was nice meeting you," he says. 

"Nice meeting you too, Dan," you respond pleasantly. 

The two of you hover there, neither wanting to walk away from this, but both to nervous to say anything. He is looking straight into your eyes, biting his lip again but smiling this time as he does. His shoulders are hunched up and he rocks back on his feet, looking nervously at you, and you can see the thoughts flying through his mind. You feel so at ease around him, even after your initial anxiety. You can feel meager reserves of courage bubbling up inside you, and a question is forming just behind your lips. 

A door upstairs opens and someone comes stomping out, stopping by the landing. "___! There you are, Christ! Get up here, you've got thirty pages to format!"

You and Dan both look up to see Billy frowning down at you. You glare dryly at him, standing there in his designer distressed jeans and perfect hipster beard. "I'll be there in a second, Billy."

Billy looks almost comically affronted by your cool response. "You'll get up here now! I don't pay you to flirt, I pay you to format pages! Don't think I can't replace you." He then turns and walks briskly into the Hypnotik office, slamming the door behind him. 

You look back to Dan with an apologetic smile. You gesture weakly to where Billy had been standing. "My boss. Lovely man, isn't he?"

As you expected Dan to laugh nervously or something, you are mildly surprised at the horrified expression on his face. "He sounds awful," Dan says, sounding genuinely sorry that you have to work for someone like that. 

You shrug. "He has his moments. I better get up there, though, I do have pages to format."

"Alright," Dan says, shoulders slumping. "Well... Have a good day at work, ___. If that guy gives you any trouble, well. I'm not much of a fighter, but I will have some choice words for him."

You laugh, and Dan brightens quite a bit. You start walking up the stairs to the fourth floor, keeping eye contact as you go. Dan stands there, still smiling, a strange glow about him. 

\--------------------

You have barely gotten through two pages on an article about a metal sculptor from Arizona before Angela, one of the writers, comes by looking hassled. You look up from your laptop, open your mouth to say hi, but Angela drops a folder on your desk. 

"No time. Here's the interview with Mary Delvue, the one that thinks she's Georgia O'Keeffe. Billy wants this spread featured instead of the painter that uses resin. Schaffer, or whatever his name is."

You stare at the folder, mouth agape. Angela starts to walk away, but you jump up and grab her wrist. "What d'you mean, he wants this instead of the Schaffer spread? I worked so hard on that one!"

You let Angela pull her hand from your grip. She is probably your only friend, even if you only see her at work. "I'm sorry, ___, but you know how Billy is. He doesn't want to put anything too risky in his rag." 

You scoff, folding your arms tersly over your chest. "Delvue has plenty of exposure. Schaffer has almost none. And his work is breathtaking! How could Billy pass up the chance to be the first to feature such a talented artist?"

"Billy ain't worried about talent," Angela reminds you. "Billy is worried about selling magazines to art snobs. Delvue is a recognizable name, that sells copies." She shrugs, pushing her long, thinly braided hair off her shoulder. "It sucks, but that's the business. I gotta run, ___, have that Delvue spread done before Billy gets back from his two hour vape pen break."

You watch Angela leave, then sink back into your uncomfortable desk chair. You pick up the folder with Mary Delvue's spread and open it. 

You met Delvue right after getting hired. She's a fairly well known painter, and she's been featured a few times in Hypnotik. Each time brings photos of paintings featuring macros of flowers in faded colors, still lifes of ordinary objects with something shocking thrown in. You remember photographing her work for the first time, frowning at the huge painting of several colorful dildos in the bowl of a standing mixer. Delvue herself sat to the side while you took the pictures, being interveiwed by a very unimpressed Angela.

"My work speaks of the eternal feminine struggle," Delvue had said, her voice huaghty and reeking of Beverly Hills. "We women try to deny our intense pull to provide, to have someone to take care of, and our need to surrender. It's sad, really. I feel that so many young women would be less troubled if they didn't fight it."

She is a condescending, middle-aged spoiled brat. Her husband is filthy rich, some kind of stock broker or lawyer or some other boring job, and she buys all of her influence in the art world. Her 'generosity' has certainly kept Hypnotik from going under once or twice, but the price for her patronage is a cover story whenever she feels that she's been out of the spotlight for too long. More well-known magazines like Juxtapoz and Hi-Fructose would never allow bribery, and wouldn't need it anyway. But Hypnotik is still new, and you suppose you can see why Billy would stoop so low. 

You remind yourself that you're not a journalist, you're a photographer. You get paid to format pages and get photos of artwork, that's it. But as you flip through images of Delvue's newest work, more macro flowers and 50's housewife aesthetic with some sexual undertone to appeal to the younger generation, you feel a sickness in your gullet. Part of what makes your job bearable is finding new artists, seeing them light up like a Christmas tree when you ask to interveiw them for a magazine. You endeavor to bring unknown artists out of anonymity, since it's all the good you can do in such a position. But Billy is determined to undermine you at every step, never willing to showcase anyone who does anything new and interesting. 

With a heavy sigh, you start scanning in the photos and upload the article written by Angela. You don't even bother to read it, because you already know what Delvue wants it to say. 

\--------------------

Dan has been so fidgety today. 

He's sure the others have noticed. He could barely pay attention at the meeting, still so flustered after meeting you. Your face will not leave his mind, your quiet voice still ringing through him, clear as a bell. 

Presently, Dan is sitting at his couch, headphones on, supposedly writing lyrics. But his laptop has been sitting open for an hour, doing nothing but slowly draining the battery. 

'I should've asked her out or something,' he thinks. 'I should've given her my number. Or maybe that's too forward? I should've asked her to get coffee sometime. I should've asked what she was doing for lunch.'

He groans loudly, sliding down the couch until he is very ungracefully splayed out, all slumped up against the back of the couch. Every time he tries to clear his head and write, you pop back into his head. The way you looked away, all shy, when he walked up. The way you got all flustered, it was so cute. And the way you seemed to open up just a little bit on the way up the stairs. He has so little to go on, he barely knows you. You're an enticing mystery to him, and he feels a powerful desire to get to know you better. 

He runs both hands over his face. It's been awhile since he's had it this bad, and though his last relationship ended amicably enough, he can't deny the ache in his chest when he thinks of his most recent ex. He really thought they could at least get past his two-year record, but it just wasn't meant to be. And it's certainly been long enough since he had been dumped that at least getting to know someone new was appropriate, and would maybe shake this funk he's been in for awhile. 

Arin peaks out of the recording room. "Did you wanna pick a game for today, Dan?" he asks, a hefty layer of sweetness on his voice. He's been quite friendly and nice toward Dan since Dan had started feeling down. 

Dan offers a weary smile. "I don't know... We can play whatever."

Arin frowns and steps out into the office, his hands on his hips. "Come on, Dan, let's go pick out a game. Get up off that couch, you've been sitting over there bellyaching all morning."

Dan lets out an overdramatic whine, sliding fully off the couch and plopping onto the floor in a heap. He hears Arin laugh, his usual high pitched giggle, before stomping over. Dan doesn't even put up a fight when Arin grabs him and hefts him up onto his feet. 

"Wake up, Scarecrow," Arin teases. He keeps one arm around Dan's thin waist, leading him over to the shelves housing their excessive collection of video games.

Dan sits in an abandoned desk chair as Arin browses the shelves, overacting as he runs a finger along the spines of various games. "Hummm...let's see..." Arin says in a carrying voice. "Which game will Dan like?"

Arin looks at Dan over his shoulder, as though trying to determine if he heard him just now. Dan can't help but laugh. "Pick whatever you want, man, you know I'm happy just hanging out with you."

Arin is visibly moved by these words, but says nothing as he grabs a random game from the shelf. He doesn't even look at it as he starts walking toward the recording room, gesturing for Dan to follow.

\--------------------

Lunch time comes at last, and Dan is eager to get outside for a bit. While playing a bargain bin Wii game with Arin provided some much-needed easy fun, he wants nothing more than to go outside and feel the wind against his skin. The office walls feel like they're closing in, the canned air is clogging his throat. 

Arin waves him off as he excuses himself for a lunch break, telling him to take however long he needs. Dan doesn't know what Arin plans on doing while he's gone, but as he steps outside into the sunlight, he forgets to worry about it. 

He can't help but stop and lean his head back, eyes closed, and feel the warmth soak into his skin. The light breeze wraps around him and he feels so light, like he could be carried away by it. Wouldn't that be nice? 

He lets out a happy sigh and starts making his way to his car, only to stop when something catches his eye.

You're sitting at an old picnic table with your laptop, your sparse lunch, and a lit cigarette between your fingers. 

Dan stares, feeling confused by the cigarette for some reason. It doesn't suit you, he decides. Not that he could tell you what to do, but he can't help but feel a little disappointed. 

Before he even knows he's doing it, he's started walking toward you. Once he does realize where this trajectory will lead him, he has to exercise a lot of self-control to not chicken out. He wants to get to know you better, and here he has another opportunity dropped right into his lap. He couldn't possibly turn that down. 

As he gets closer, he notices your headphones are on and second-guesses himself briefly. What if you're super busy? What if you think he's being a creepy stalker? What if you're just not interested? He doesn't think he can take much more heartbreak at the moment. 

When he sits at the table, you look up, blinking fast in surprise. You take off the headphones, classic rock pumping out before you turn the volume down. "Hey, you," you say. 

"Hey," Dan says, hoping he can manage to not sound too desperate. "You know, not to be that asshole, but... those things are terrible for you." He gestures to your cigarette. Immediately he wishes he hadn't said anything, as you are an adult who can make your own decisions. And it's not like he's never done anything bad for him. 

You just laugh, feeling slightly guilty. "Yeah, I know. I got hooked a couple years ago when money was short. They're appetite suppressants, you know, and it's easier to bum a smoke off someone than get ten bucks for dinner."

He nods sympathetically, as he knows the struggle only too well. "I'll tell you what," he says. "You put that out and I'll take you to lunch. We can go now." He tacks on a grin, hoping to charm you into at least putting out the cigarette.

You hesitate, weighing your options. You still have pages to do, photos to edit, and if you're late from lunch Billy will lose his shit. But as you consider your boss, the image of Mary Delvue on the cover again appears in your mind. In an instant you're shoving the cigarette cherry-first into an ashtray. "You got yourself a deal."


	2. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Things are getting... cuuuute

Getting into Dan’s car fills you with some weird, unidentifiable feeling. He holds the door open for you, a true gentleman, and as he closes the door and walks around the front, you take a second to look around, trying to glean any tidbit of information about him that you can. The interior of the car, a moderately sized SUV, is clean for the most part. Unlike your car, there's no bits of trash on the floor, no bird shit on the windshield, and no cigarette ashes dusting the dashboard. There's two individual seats behind you, and a bench seat behind those. On the bench seat there's a gym bag with clothes and a towel spilling out, as well as some empty, broken down boxes sitting on the floor. 

Dan gets into the driver’s seat, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he does. He starts the car and you can't help but be jealous of how easily it starts. The radio comes on, already tuned to a classic rock station. The volume is nearly halfway up, and Dan immediately reaches to turn it down. 

You push his hand away as Paradise City starts playing. “No, no, I love this song,” you insist, and he laughs as you start swaying in your seat to the music. 

Really, you're thankful for the music because it keeps you from having to keep up a conversation. Nothing could be more stressful to you than small talk, and trying to avoid the dreaded lull. Dan seems more than happy to accommodate you, and as he drives down the road, the two of you are singing along loudly. You have to stop yourself from overthinking; just enjoy the music, and his company. 

Even as the two of you break into the chorus, and you throw your last remaining inhibitions out the window, you can hear his voice floating through the music, and it's beautiful. Unlike anything you've ever heard before. He goes for big, dynamic notes with absolutely no hesitation. You watch him jam out, a big smile spreading over your face as he gets more and more into it. Everyone you've ever known thought you were incredibly weird for cutting loose like this to the car radio, but Dan is outperforming you in such a beautiful way that you can't help but watch it unfold. You never had much aptitude for music; you're admittedly not a great singer, and the only instrument you ever played was a recorder in sixth grade. But as much as you love art, music moves you in a way that you could never explain, and you could certainly never deny. By the looks of it, as Dan pumps a fist out the open window, he feels the same. Except he can actually sing. 

The song is over, and you reach over to turn the radio down to conversation level. “Sorry, I just love Guns & Roses,” you say, though your huge grin doesn't make you seem too apologetic. 

Dan waves you off as he merges into a turning lane that leads into a strip mall. “Don’t worry about it. You have good taste at least! Do you like sushi?”

The non sequitur throws you for a bit of a loop, so you're shocked into giving an honest answer. “I’ve never had it. Isn't it just raw fish and seaweed?”

Dan looks over at you in shock as he waits for the light to change. “Never had sushi! How long have you lived in LA?”

You can tell he's just teasing you, so you don't take it personally. “I’ve lived out here for… two years? I think? I've just never had the chance to try it, I guess. Sushi was always fancy people food to me. The only people I ever knew to eat it back home were the type of people to have a pool in their backyard and a new car every five years.”

“It’s not that fancy,” Dan says. “And it's not all raw fish. But if you'd rather get something else, we could do that.” He parks his car and looks sheepishly over at you. “I probably should've found out what you like before asking you out to lunch, huh?”

He looks so cute that, even if you had been mad at him for taking you to a sushi place, your anger would've been obliterated in this moment. He's blushing slightly, looking at you through his eyelashes with his whole body tensed up. You could ask to go somewhere else, since you could easily end up not liking sushi at all. But you feel the same daring impulse that urged you to put out your cigarette and go along with him. If you're going to abandon a lifetime of playing it safe and only going after the expected, you might as well do this thing properly and try sushi for the first time. 

“We can do sushi,” you say, and it makes you happy to see him relax a bit. “I guess this is a whole day of firsts for me.”

“What d’you mean?” Dan asks. 

You shrug and look away. It's a little embarrassing to admit that you're not a very exciting person. “This isn't typical for me. Going to lunch with someone I literally just met. Having sushi, even though I've never had it in my life and might hate it. I'm not usually this adventurous.”

Dan leans over the center console and grabs your hand. His grip is gentle and his skin is impossibly soft. You look back to him to see him smiling back at you, with that easy-going demeanor radiating off of him like the warmth of a hearth on a cold, lonely night. “I’m honored that you'd give it a chance, but if you decide you don't like it, just say so and we'll high-tail it to the nearest dive.”

You only nod, returning his smile. He lets go of your hand and turns off the car, and hops out to head over and get your door for you. Once you’re out of the car, he offers his arm to you and you accept it with a giddy laugh. “You’re such a gentleman!”

He nods and pats your hand where it rests on his forearm. “My mom raised me right.”

Once inside, Dan leads you to a seat at a booth and sits across from you. A menu is brought to you soon after, and you stare incredulously at all the foreign words. There are descriptions next to these words, and that helps a bit as you can at least find out what each thing has in it. As you’re looking back and forth between multiple selections, someone comes by to get your order. 

Dan places his order, and helps you pick some rolls that, according to him, are good for ‘beginners.’ When the food arrives, and plate of sushi rolls is placed in front of you, you sit up straight. “This stuff is too pretty to eat,” you remark dryly.

Dan laughs. “Just wait until you taste it. Try that one first!” he insists, pointing to a shrimp roll with his chopsticks. 

You struggle a little with the chopsticks. You've tried using them before, while eating at Chinese buffet places, but that was a long time ago and you realize you might not have the dexterity for this task when the sushi roll flops out of your meager grip. 

Dan has already started eating, but he pauses while you struggle. “If you're not good with chopsticks, you can just eat them with your fingers,” he says. There’s a hint of trepidation to his voice, and you look up at him to see worry on his face. He clearly wants you to enjoy yourself; strangely, he's just as nervous about this as you are. 

You nod once. “I think that would be best.” As you set the chopsticks down and grab the roll with your fingers, Dan does the same. It makes you feel quite a bit better about not being adept at using chopsticks. You bite into the roll, and a strange but pleasant array of flavors explodes into your mouth. You can taste the shrimp first, the slight bitterness of what you assume is seaweed, and the mellowness of rice. There’s something tangy and sweet just under the surface, and the whole experience together is a lot yummier than you had been prepared for. 

Dan is grinning knowingly at you as he takes a big bite of one of his rolls. With his mouth full, he doesn't say anything, but you can interpret that look. That ‘I told you so’ look. After finishing off the shrimp roll, you pick one with cucumber slices arranged in a lattice pattern on the outside and hold it up. “A toast,” you propose.

Playing along, Dan hurries to swallow down the rest of his first roll and holds up a second. “To sushi,” he says. 

“To new experiences,” you add.

Not to be outdone, Dan leans forward slightly. His voice dips low a little bit, and his dark eyes seem to weave some kind of spell over you. “To first dates.”

Well, that certainly makes it official. You can't stop the smile on your face from growing, and you bump your roll into his. 

“Cheers!”

\---------------

The drive back to the office takes longer than either you or Dan expected, but with the radio playing Queen and Rush back to back, it hardly matters. You learn that Rush is Dan’s favorite band, that he's seen them live a bunch of times. “I love this band, dude,” Dan says reverently as Subdivisions comes to an end and the radio station goes to commercial. 

You could tell he loves the band just from how he sang along with such passion, so much that you both forgot about the traffic jam you now found yourselves in. You have even forgotten to crave a cigarette after eating, which later you'll marvel at. Right now, you’re too busy marveling at him. “They're a great band. I wish I could've seen them live! I've only been to, like, two concerts in my whole life.”

Dan looks over at you, all excited. “We should go to a concert sometime!” he says. 

You are pleasantly taken aback by this suggestion, and as Dan bounces in his seat like a kid who found out he's going to Disneyland, the implication of what he's asking comes to light. 

“I'll have to see who's coming to town,” he says. “I'm pretty sure Foreigner is doing a tour right now. I haven't seen them live so it'll be a first for both of us! It’s been awhile since I've been to a concert, hopefully I don't have anything going on. If I do I'm pretty sure I can get out of it for one night.”

As he rambles, you can't help but think… This means he wants to see you again. This means he's interested. Right? He called taking you to lunch a date. He opened doors for you, humored you when you didn't know how to use chopsticks, he insisted on paying. Every time he looks over at you, there's an undeniable glint in his eyes. The way he looks at you is like he's found something important and precious and is afraid he might lose it.

You can't deny that you feel the same. 

“I love Foreigner,” you say, and he nods once. 

“Well, that settles that. You wanna go see Foreigner with me?”

You feel like you're standing at a crossroads with this question. On one side is the life you've grown used to; working all day, working more at home and in the evening, sitting in your living room with take-out and whatever you can find to watch on public access television. While all your friends back home have started posting engagement announcements on Facebook and Instagram, you haven't been in a relationship since college. 

On the other side, there’s Dan. You just met him, and he seems almost too perfect. This road is unknown to you, and has the chance of you ending up hurt in the end. But you'll never know if you don't walk that path; if you stick to your life as you've known it, you know where you'll be in six months. If you follow Dan down this unknown path, you don't know what will happen. But you'll get to walk with him for a little while at least. 

“I would love nothing more than to go see Foreigner with you,” you say, and Dan looks even happier, if that were possible. 

\--------------------

You and Dan eventually get back to the office building, half an hour later, thanks to traffic. It's no surprise to you that Billy is standing outside, puffing vigorously on his vape pen, looking like an angry chimney. Dan pulls into a parking spot, looking quite nervous. “Isn’t that your boss?”

You sigh. “Yeah. He's probably pissed because I was gone so long.”

Dan stops you from getting out of the car. “I’m sorry,” he says, so genuine that you are sorry that he's sorry. “I didn't even think… I hope I didn't get you in trouble.”

You wave off his concern with ease. “Don't worry about Billy. He is all bark, no bite. He'll yell and fuss, but he'll get over it. I don't have too much work left to do, he just wants to act tough.”

Dan is not placated. “I'll go with you, I don't want you getting yelled at because of me. I'll tell him it was my fault.”

“You don't have to do that,” you say softly.

Dan undoes his seat belt and shuts off the car. “Yes I do. You shouldn't get yelled at for going to lunch with me.”

The two of you get out of the car and start walking up to the building. In a move that has you pleasantly surprised, Dan reaches over and holds your hand, weaving his fingers between yours. You feel a flutter in your stomach that has nothing to do with getting reprimanded by Billy.

As you and Dan walk up, Billy starts stomping over. Without thinking about it, you squeeze Dan’s hand. He squeezes back, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. 

“Where have you been?” Billy demands, puffing up in anger. The parts of his face not obscured by his carefully trimmed beard and side-swept hair is quickly turning a patchy red. “You were supposed to be back forty-five minutes ago! Why do I even pay you?”

“She was out to lunch with me,” Dan says, very calm but apologetic. “I asked her to come with me and I kept her too long, and traffic was backed up. It's my fault.”

“Great! Thanks for keeping my employees from doing their job. I really fucking appreciate it. ___, get your ass upstairs and finish the Delvue spread,” Billy says. 

Dan bristles at Billy’s over-the-top reaction. You shake his hand loose from yours. “I already finished the Delvue spread,” you say, your tone getting nearly as heated as Billy’s. “I have five pages to finish up, it won't take me that long to finish. Everyone else takes long lunch breaks, including you. As long as I finish my work, I really don't see the problem with me taking a long lunch once.”

Billy stares you down, his condescending glare boring into you so heavily that you have to force yourself to not back down. “Fine then. Finish your pages, then come see me in my office. I'll be waiting.” And he turns and walks back inside, disturbingly calm. 

You know what's waiting for you in that office, but you don't want to think about it right now. You'll keep your job, that's all you need. You turn back to Dan, who looks only more unhappy. 

“I’m so sorry, ___,” he says. He reaches for your hand again, and you gladly let him. His firm yet gentle grip grounds you almost immediately. “I really didn't want to get you into trouble, especially when you just met me. I promise I don't make it a habit to do this sort of thing.”

You smile humorlessly. “It’s really alright, Dan. I know you didn't mean to get me into trouble, Billy just looks for any reason to start shit.”

And then, surprising even yourself, you reach out and pull Dan into a hug. He returns it, pressing his hands into your back. You can smell a faint scent of sandalwood on him. “I had a great time hanging out with you,” you say softly, barely even able to believe any of this is real. 

“I did too,” he responds, his voice like the sound of the breeze blowing through distant trees. “I hope we can hang out again soon…?”

You pull back, keeping your hands loosely on his shoulders. “I’d like that. Let me give you my number.”

You end up putting yourself in Dan’s phone, and he sends you a quick text of random emojis so you can do the same. It's very endearing. 

“Well,” you say loftily, “I better get upstairs and get those pages done. Text me later and let me know when you have some free time, alright?”

He smiles, almost shyly, ruffling his hand through his already fluffy hair. “Alright. Thanks for going to lunch with me.”

“Thanks for taking me,” you say, walking backwards toward the door. Even though he works in the same building and no doubt has his own job to get back to, he seems rooted to the spot. 

“I hope… I hope the rest of your day… Is good. Um.” He continues fluffing his hair, stumbling over his words as he blushes. 

You giggle. Seeing that he's just as unsure as you about this situation makes you feel better. “It’ll be fine,” you assure him. “You have a good day, too, alright?”

“Alright,” he says. As you step backwards onto the sidewalk in front of the entrance, he remains where he is. Like he's trying to make this moment last as long as possible. “I’ll text you later.”

You reach behind you and blindly grab the door handle. “I’m looking forward to it,” you say, pulling the door open and stepping inside. As you do, you and Dan maintain eye contact. There is a strange look on his face; hopeful, maybe. Or wistful. It’s hard for you to tell. 

He waves goodbye as you slowly shut the door, and you laugh as you wave back. 

Finally, the door is closed and you can hardly believe what just happened. You went on a date. He called it a date! He seemed really interested, even making plans to see you again. Is this real? Did this really happen?

There’s a tapping sound behind you; turning around, you see Angela standing on the staircase, tapping her nails against the railing. “Well! I never thought I’d see the day. Get up here and tell me all the details.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for future chapters: Billy is a super asshole. There will be some sexual assault next chapter between Reader and Billy. I'll put a warning up next chapter too, but i also wanted to give you a heads up here. I will be drawing from my experience with sexual assault, which happened ages ago and I've since recovered from. 
> 
> Anyway. I love yoooou~~


	3. The Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take Dan to an art exhibition.
> 
> BIG IMPORTANT WARNING: This chapter has a scene with sexual harassment between an original character (Billy) and the reader.

Dan drifts back into the Grump office like a leaf blown along with the wind, a stupid smile on his face and bumping into random objects. Barry and Ross are sitting at their desks, and they both watch Dan as he stumbles around, humming Paradise City with a dreamy demeanor so powerful, he might as well have floated in from a Disney movie. 

Ross turns to Barry slowly. “Is Dan alright?” he asks in a stage whisper.

Barry shrugs. “I dunno. Looks like he's functioning well enough,” he says as Dan walks into a table. He just bounces off and continues ambling around, making his way to his usual couch. “Maybe he has heat stroke from being outside so long.”

Ross looks over his shoulder at Dan, then back to Barry. “He’s all smiley.”

Barry turns back to his computer monitor. “Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

Ross frowns, not at all satisfied with this answer. He whips around in his chair to face Dan, who is sitting on the couch on the other end of the room. “Dan!” he barks, startling Dan quite a bit. 

Dan looks around, finding Ross trying to scoot his chair across the floor. He rolls his eyes, but he's in too good of a mood to be annoyed by Ross’s usual antics. He heaves himself up from the couch and meets Ross halfway, before Ross can tip the chair over in his excitement. 

“What’re you doing, Ross?” Dan asks, his exasperated tone mismatched with the grin on his face. 

Ross looks up at him, a suspicious look in his eye. “What’s got you acting so weird?”

“What are talking about?” Dan says with a hearty laugh.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time, Ross,” Dan says. At that moment, the door to the recording room opens up and Arin walks out, looking around, and seeing Dan.

“There you are! I thought I heard you out here. You ready to get going again?” Arin says to Dan.

Dan nods. “Yeah, I’m ready.” And he heads into the recording room. 

Ross stays in his chair, looking scandalized. “Hey, hold on a second!” he whines.

Dan just waves him off. “I’ll tell you about it later, Ross.” Arin holds the door open for Dan, looking between him and Ross with a curious frown, then follows Dan in. 

The two of them sit on the couch, and Arin starts switching on mics and televisions. “What were you talking to Ross about?”

Dan shrugs. “I dunno. He thinks I'm acting weird.”

“Oh. Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not!” Dan says. “I don't think I am, anyway. I'm just… I’m in a really good mood, that's all.”

“Well that's good to hear,” Arin says genuinely. “Did something good happen while you were at lunch?”

Dan fiddles idly with the hem of his tshirt, grinning as he bites his bottom lip. Arin, not hearing an answer, looks over from booting up the console and notices Dan’s almost bashful demeanor. 

Arin smirks. He knows Dan, his mannerisms, his quirks. Dan is one of his closest friends, and he's seen Dan like this before. Of course, he's seen Dan through all phases of being involved with a girl. Smitten, happily dating, absolutely in love, then eventual devastation after the break up. Dan has had two girlfriends since Arin has known him, and each of those relationships ended with the girl dumping him. They part ways on good terms, but Arin knows the truth. Even if Dan thinks he can hide it, he knows how painful it is for his friend to be left with the dregs of another failed relationship. Arin wants nothing more than for all of his friends to be happy, and for the most part Dan is very happy, if a bit overworked. But Arin cannot deny that he holds out hope that Dan could find someone who can appreciate him, as well as be understanding of why he works so hard. 

Dan rubs the back of his neck idly. “Yeah, something good did happen at lunch.”

“Oh, yeah?” Arin says. “Did you… Did you get Thai food again?”

“No. We had sushi,” Dan says, not even thinking about it. 

Arin gasps theatrically. “Ooh! ‘We?’ Who’d you have lunch with?” Arin scoots uncomfortably close to Dan, putting on a typical Valley girl accent.

Dan giggles and makes a feeble attempt to push Arin off of him. “A girl who works in the office upstairs,” he admits.

“Nuh uh!” Arin says. “You dog. Is she cuuute?”

“Dude,” Dan says. He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “She’s so cute. And nice. And she's so easy to talk to, like we talked about music and we might go see a concert sometime. She's a photographer, she takes pictures of art for a, like. Modern art magazine.”

While Dan rambles, Arin watches as he goes from slumped in a sort of blissful calm to squirming up into a more upright position, becoming more excited and animated as he talks. “What’s her name?”

“___,” Dan says softly. “I uh. I actually got her into some trouble.”

At this point, Arin has completely forgotten that they're supposed to be playing video games right now. “What happened? I can't imagine you getting anyone into trouble, much less a pretty girl.”

“I took too long getting her back from lunch.” Dan says. “It wasn't entirely my fault, traffic was backed up. But her boss was waiting for her outside, and he was yelling at her. I tried to tell him what happened, but I think I got her into some shit at work.”

Arin tuts softly. “I'm sure she'll be alright.”

“She says she would be,” Dan muses. Then, almost like an afterthought, he says, “she gave me her number.”

“Dude, nice!,” Arin says. “You gonna call her up? Take her to a drive-in movie and make out?”

Dan laughs. “We just met! I don't… I don't want to mess this one up. You know?”

Arin’s enthusiasm drains away a little bit. He throws an arm around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him into a brief sideways hug. “I know, buddy. She sounds amazing.”

After that, the two of them start recording. They still have a lot of episodes to get through, and while it had been a bit of a drag to get through before lunch, it’s a different story now. Dan is in a great mood, and though he doesn't say exactly why with the mic on, Arin can't help but catch Dan’s infectious giddiness. 

Ten episodes are recorded, two different games are played, and Arin and Dan can already tell that there's some great moments in these episodes. It's nearly five in the evening, and Dan is really feeling in the zone. As Arin shuts off the console, he sits on the couch, nervously turning his phone around in his hands. 

“Hey Arin,” Dan says. Arin grunts in response, so he goes on. “Wanna do some quick one-offs? Since we have the tour coming up?”

Arin gives Dan a reproachful look and Dan recoils a little bit. “Quit stalling, Dan,” Arin says. 

“I’m not stalling!” Dan says, looking guilty. 

Arin turns around fully and looks down at Dan. He's the very picture of nervous. “You already hit it off with this girl. I've never seen you so nervous about talking to someone! Just text her and see what she's doing tonight.”

Dan sighs loudly. He's been found out. Not that he wasn't being incredibly obvious. “I just. I want to do this right, I really like her… And I feel like I already screwed up by getting her in the hot seat with her boss.”

Arin rolls his eyes. “She already said it would be fine didn't she? And besides, if you really like her, and she really likes you, which it sounds like she does, how is putting off talking to her going to help? You have to ask her out again to find out what’ll happen, might as well do it. Otherwise, you'll never know, and you'll let someone really great slip through your fingers.”

As Arin starts shutting down the PC that records their audio, Dan takes in what he just said. After a moment, he gets a sudden surge of confidence, thanks to Arin’s peptalk, and fires off a quick text.

To ___: Hey you. Hope you're not in trouble still

From ___: Not at all lol. I took care of it. How was your day? 

To ___: Great. I was thinking about you all day. 

From ___: I’m flattered! I thought about you too

To ___: Wanna do something tonight? I'm about to leave work

From ___: Oh, well I'm going to an art exhibition tonight to get photos. You wanna tag along? 

Arin finishes shutting everything down, and is just about to say something else to Dan when Dan jumps up from the couch, grabbing his jacket, a huge grin on his face. 

“Did you text her?” Arin asks. 

“Yes,” Dan says distractedly as he sends another message, accepting the invitation. “Do you think Suzy will help me find something to wear to an art show at this late hour?”

\--------------------

You wrap up the last spread for this issue, and send it along to the publishing guy with a sense of finality. All afternoon you knew what would be waiting for you at the end of the day; Billy, angry from earlier, expecting some kind of retribution. 

It's not so bad, you tell yourself. This has only happened twice before, and he barely touched you. It was uncomfortable, and you shudder at the memory whenever it pops up, but it could've been worse. And if letting Billy stare at your bare chest while he jacks off under the desk means you get to keep your job, you'll do it. Finding work is damn near impossible in LA, and you are not prepared enough to start your own studio. 

With everything edited together and the pages on the way to the printer, there's no reason to wait around. You're just delaying the inevitable. You gather up your laptop, your camera, and your bag, and start the long walk to Billy’s office. 

Angela cuts across your path, stopping you dead in your tracks. “Have you texted that boy yet?” Her tone, her posture, and even the glint in her eye are all business. 

“Not yet,” you say, a little exasperated. “I'm kind of waiting for him to text first, I guess.”

“What! Don't do that! You're gonna let that fine honey call the shots?”

You shrug. “I have to go to an exhibition tonight anyway.”

“So, ask him if he wants to come along! He seems like the poetic type, I bet he'll love it.” Angela says.

“Maybe,” you mumble, already feeling grouchy. “I gotta go talk to Billy.”

Angela huffs. “Just head home, call Billy later and tell him you forgot. He doesn't have the balls to fire anyone.”

‘If only you knew,’ you think to yourself. “I think I'll just get it over with now, and if Dan wants to see me again, he'll text me. Bye, Angela.” You walk around her, not listening to her sputter angrily at being dismissed so callously, but you can't care about that now. 

Billy is waiting outside his office, leaning against the door frame, a smug look about him. As you approach, he makes a grand gesture for you to go in first. So you do, and you try not to wince when the door to the office locks as Billy follows you in. 

You set your things down on a chair while Billy walks around to the other side of his desk, sitting down in his usual expensive desk chair. You wait for him to say something, because you know this side of him. He wants to be in control of what happens, and you know you have to let him. 

“So,” Billy says eventually. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” you repeat sardonically.

Billy scowls. “It's that attitude problem that keeps getting you into trouble. I don't know what they taught you in whatever podunk town you come from, but around here, if you get fired from the wrong job it'll ruin your whole career.”

The implication that working for this human equivalent of puke is something you should be grateful for makes you snort derisively before you can stop yourself. Billy is already getting red in the face with annoyance.

“Come over here,” he demands. 

You hesitate. This isn't how it usually goes. 

Billy slams his fist hard on the desk, giving you quite a fright. “I said come here, god dammit! Get over here or you'll never find a job in this city again!”

You don't know if you should believe him. He might come from rich, white, suburban stock, but he can't have that much influence… can he? Can you really risk it? Even if Billy himself can't ruin your life, he certainly knows a lot of famous artists. Especially the snobby kind, like Mary Delvue. He could pull enough strings, call in enough favors, and he could very well pull off what he's threatening. He could snuff out your career as a professional photographer before it even really starts. 

You walk around the desk slowly, full of apprehension. You stop a full three or four feet away from Billy, your whole body stiff. The muffled noise of your coworkers finishing up outside is far away, completely out of reach and unable to help. 

Billy reaches out, like a snake snapping up a mouse, and grabs your arm. You let out a small noise in protest at his rough grip, but he ignores it and yanks you closer. You stumble and fall to your knees in front of him. When you try to get back up, he stops you. 

He unzips the fly of his skinny jeans, and after a bit of grunting, he manages to get his dick out.

You stare at it, your emotions quickly shutting down as a survival instinct. It has to be the most unimpressive cock you've ever seen; not that you've seen a remarkable amount of cocks, but you've seen enough to know what a decent one looks like. 

“Stay put,” Billy says, and he reaches into a desk drawer to grab some lotion and dumps way too much in his open palm. He starts pumping his dick, glaring down at you. 

You aren't sure what he wants from you, so you just look up at him, blank-faced.

“You’re such a bitch,” he says behind clenched teeth. “You just want a guy like me to boss you around, right?”

You don't respond at all. You just continue staring up at him. 

Billy growls, his dick now fully erect. He stops jerking off and grabs your arm again, bringing your hand up against his dick. “Finish it off, bitch,” he snarls.

You do it, mechanically and emotionlessly. He tells you to go faster, so you do. And then, as soon as it started, Billy comes into your hand. He lets out some horrible, strangled sound, bucking his hips a bit, then settles back into the chair.

You stand up and take some tissues from a box on his desk to wipe the come from your hand. “Will that be all, then?” you ask blandly. 

Billy makes a sweeping gesture with his hand as he catches his breath. “Be on time from now on,” he says. 

You only nod before walking over to gather your things, and then you walk out of the office. 

You don't really come back to realty until you’re at home. You don't remember leaving the office, you don't remember starting your car and driving home. But here you are. You suppose you could mentally unpack what happened in Billy’s office, but you have always found it easier to just pretend those things never happened. 

It’s still late afternoon, so you have some time before you have to go to tonight's exhibition. You'll have to find something to wear, but you’re not too worried about it right this second. 

As you're looking through your barren fridge for something to eat that isn't expired, you hear your phone ding in your bag. You walk over to the counter where you left it and pull your phone out, sure that's it's someone from the gallery wanting to confirm that you'll be at the exhibition for Hypnotik. You are pleasantly surprised to see that it is actually a text from Dan.

Your numb feeling is melted quickly by texting back and forth with him, especially when he says he was thinking about you all day. You feel giddy all of a sudden, the incident with Billy forgotten. Before you can stop and second-guess yourself, you ask him to come with you to the exhibition. You get a plus-one at nearly every show you go to, you've just never had anyone to bring. 

Once he's agreed, you send him your address and tell him to be here in about an hour. With that done, you forget about finding dinner. These fancy art shows tend to have equally fancy hors d-oeuvres. 

You spend the next half an hour getting an Uber ride set up (no way you’re driving your piece of shit car with Dan coming along) and ripping apart your closet for your secret weapon. 

A little black A-line dress, simple but dressy enough for the exhibition, and one of your few splurges. It's the one dress you own that, when you wear it, you feel confident and sexy. 

With the dress hanging up on the bathroom door, you start doing your hair and make up, only having to redo your eyeliner once. You even manage to get fake eyelashes on, and you start to feel that, finally, things are starting to go your way. 

It takes nearly forty minutes to do your make up and hair, and just as you're zipping up the dress you get a notification from Uber that your driver, a guy named Clyde, is waiting outside in a red Jeep Patriot. As you send a message back that you're just waiting on someone, you wonder where Dan is. 

Did he get lost? Did he realize the neighborhood you live in is a little less than squeaky clean and decide to blow you off…? That couldn't be it. Dan is a really sweet guy, he couldn't be the type to care about appearances like that. 

You sneak into the bathroom for a quick smoke, shocked at the fact that you haven't had one since lunch. You check your phone multiple times, even though you know it'll ding if Dan texts you. 

Just as you start to really worry, there’s a knock at the door. You put out the nearly finished cigarette and hurry over to the front door, grabbing your purse, camera, and Hypnotik badge. You take one last look at yourself in a mirror hanging by the mantle before opening the door. 

Dan is on the other side, looking excited and very handsome. It is possible that he became only more attractive since you saw him at lunch; he has his long hair pulled back into an artfully messy ponytail, so you can see all the angles of his face. There is a bit of stubble dusting his sharp jawline, with the lines cleaned up so it looks more rugged and less sloppy. He's wearing black slacks, a bluish-gray dress shirt, and a black tie, with a leather jacket. It's dressy enough for the event, but just casual enough that he'll fit right in with the artsy crowd.

“Hey,” he says. You notice that he has one hand behind his back; he brings it forward to reveal a flower. A day lily. “Uh. This is for you.”

You take the flower, your fingers brushing against his as you do. “It’s lovely! Here, come in here real quick…”

You allow Dan into your apartment and leave him in the living room while you hurry back to the bathroom. It takes you only a second to pin the day lily into your hair, just behind your ear, with some bobby pins. When you walk back into the living room, Dan is waiting with his hands in his pockets. You stop and pat the flower gently. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful,” Dan says softly. “You are beautiful.”

You feel yourself blushing, but you laugh it off. You really need to get moving if the two of you are going to make it to the exhibition on time. “You look very handsome, yourself. All the girls at the show will be fawning over you, you look like you came from the cover of a romance novel. And I mean that in the best possible way.”

You and Dan make your way outside together and start heading down the stairwell. “I only have eyes for you,” Dan says theatrically. “And if I look like a romance novel, you look like you're on set at a French film from the 40’s. Like a classic movie starlet.”

You never really knew how to take compliments, especially not on your appearance. You just smile and say, “Thank you.” He returns the smile, easing your nerves about the second date in one day. 

The two of you get into the waiting Uber, and on the drive over, you decide it would be best to give Dan the rundown. “Now, I am really looking forward to spending time with you,” you tell him. “But this is still, very technically, work. So I gotta run around for a bit and take pictures and stuff, probably won't take me more than half an hour, since it's not a big gallery. But while I'm doing that, you can look around on your own or you can follow me, but I won't be any fun until I get my photos.”

“Understood,” Dan says. “I don't want to get in your way. I'm sure there will be plenty to look at, I really like looking at modern art. Even if I don't get it.”

He says this in such a self-deprecating way that you think he meant it as a joke, but you pout sympathetically anyway. “Aw, Dan, it's not hard to get. Once you know the secret, you understand all contemporary art.”

He gasps with intrigue. “What’s the secret?” he asks, almost like a child. 

You shrug. “Maybe I'll tell you, at the show,” you say, feeling mischievous.

He regards you calmly for a moment, then the both of you break out laughing. “Come on, really. What's the secret?”

“I’ll tell you at the show!” you say, giving his shoulder a little shove. “You might even figure it out on your own, you seem pretty smart.”

“Oh, well. Appearances can be deceiving, little missy. I do play video games for a living.”

“That’s so smart!” you cry out, unable to stop yourself from gesticulating wildly. “Of all the people in the world who work in cubicles and digging ditches and… I don't know, other horrible things, I bet they'd love to get paid to play video games.”

“You’re right,” Dan says happily. “I worked some soul-sucking jobs, I know how lucky I am.”

“Not lucky. At least not entirely. Smart, that's what you are,” you tell him.

He seems to have just as much trouble taking compliments as you do; he brushes it off with a wave of his hand, saying, “Nahh.”

Upon arriving at the gallery, Dan walks in with you and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. “Go get ‘em, champ,” he says affectionately. He then makes his way toward the wall showing paintings by the featured artist. 

You immediately start making your rounds, and never before has it ever been such a grind. As you snap photos of paintings and sculptures that any other day would captivate you, you're just too distracted now. You see Dan out of the corner of your eye every now and then, walking around with a bottle of Perrier and completely at ease in the moderately crowded gallery. You feel a bit guilty for leaving him right at the outset of your date, but as you are here representing Hypnotik, you really can't do anything but try and get photos as quick as possible.

Once you finish up, you find Dan standing in front of an abstract painting. It’s rather large, with two shades of brown. The top half is copper in color, slightly metallic, and the bottom is a dull burnt umber. Going through the middle of the painting, from top left to bottom right, is a choppy line of bright, cobalt blue.

You walk up and stand next to Dan, and he glances at you briefly as you approach. “Did you get a lot of pictures?” he asks.

“I did,” you tell him. “Sorry I had to leave you alone for so long.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. You had to get your work done. And I had time to think about that secret.”

“Really? What did you come up with?”

He thinks about it a bit more, rubbing his chin. “The only thing I have… Uh. It’s kind of stupid.”

You bump your shoulder against his. “I bet it’s not.”

He sighs. “I think… the secret is… that you… uuuhh…” He breaks out into an adorable giggle as you stare flatly at him, clearly figuring out that he’s stalling. “Alright. Promise you won’t laugh at me.”

You adopt a kinder disposition. “I would never.”

“Okay, so. Art is, like, a way to express yourself, right?”

You nod, feeling a flutter of excitement as he delves into what he thinks about this secret. You’re just aching to find out how his mind works, how he sees the world.

“So, if each painting is an expression of one person… I guess what we’re seeing in their painting is, like, a visual representation of… Their emotions, I guess? What they’re thinking about, and what they feel.”

Feeling quite proud of his answer, even if he doesn’t seem confident in it, you gesture to the painting in front of you both. “With that in mind, what d’you think of this?”

He considers it for a few minutes, humming thoughtfully. Eventually, he comes to a conclusion. “I think this person is lonely.”

If you're honest with yourself, you're surprised he came to that. “What made you think that?”

“It looks like a canyon, like the brown parts are the land and the blue is a river. Like you're seeing the canyon from space. And the blue stands out so much, it's keeping the two sides separate. Like the person who painted it feels separated from everyone else by something out of their control. Like, they're standing at one side of the canyon, and everyone else is on the other side, and the river that made the canyon is keeping them apart.”

He looks over at you, unsure. “Is that right? Did I get it right?”

You reach for his hand, and he lets you have it; you bring it up to your lips and kiss the back. “That’s the secret,” you tell him.

He is obviously a bit confused. “What d’you mean? What about that is the secret?”

“The secret is that, when it comes to art, there is no wrong answer. Art is like a mirror for your soul; the artist of this piece painted it to mean one thing, but you came to a completely different conclusion. Because you see something else in it. Everyone sees something different in art, because everyone sees the world differently.”

Dan glances between you and the painting, a bit dumbstruck. After a moment of sputtering, he cracks a reproachful grin and says, “did you just psychoanalyze me on our date?”

You laugh and start leading him away to look at something else. “All I did was ask what you thought of a painting.”

He stops in front of another abstract. “Alright then, what do you think of this?”

This painting has small but heavy brushstrokes in various shades a purple, moving down the canvas, covering the whole surface, except for a single, large brushstroke of gold ink. You take awhile to look at it while Dan stands patiently next to you, sipping his fizzy water, still holding your hand.

“To me, this is a precious treasure that someone found that they want to keep safe. It fell into their hands and they feel like they don’t deserve it, but they want to keep it more than anything. But they also want others to see it, because something this precious shouldn’t be hidden away.”

At first you aren’t sure that Dan picked up what you were trying to say, but it turns out his moment of silence is due to emotion, not confusion. Now he kisses your hand, no words needing to be spoken by either of you. You know just by looking at him, how incredibly moved he is, that he feels the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art gallery date will wrap up in chapter four, where i will selfishly use an idea for an art installation I've always wanted to do. Yeah, if you couldn't tell by now, i like making weird contemporary art :x
> 
> I hope this reads well. I don't know why but i feel like maybe it's a bit of a drag. I dunno. I think the scene in the art gallery went pretty well, though. 
> 
> Also, i am writing this on my phone, which is challenging because i do the slide thing and half the time it brings up the wrong word. Like, people comes out as puerile??? What the fuck. But that does mean that i get to write at work (i work in a factory) when i take breaks.
> 
> But anyway, please tell me what you think! I need feedback :0 i don't know if this is turning out right lol. I'm a visual person, so i play out the scene movie-style in my head and just write down what i see.


	4. Starlight Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is starting to look like a real relationship, and Dan is worried about blowing it. Meanwhile, you start to realize just how popular Dan is on youtube.

For the next hour or so, you and Dan walk around the gallery, asking each other to say what a piece of art means to them. Dan’s answers are quick, coming in little bursts while he thinks out loud. He tends to focus on the colors when looking at paintings, and the shapes when looking at sculpture. From what he’s told you, you can deduce that he feels good about where he is in life, and had quite a lot of struggles to get through. He also feels lonely and isolated sometimes, and he has a fear of failure. 

From your answers, Dan can tell that you are a deep thinker, that you like to have a thought fully formed in your head before saying it out loud. You focus on the techniques, the fine details, things most people wouldn't notice at first glance. To him, you talk about art calmly and without worrying about what is ‘correct.’ He figures from your answers that you don't have great confidence in yourself, that you’re longing for something better but don't quite know how to get it. 

Dan can tell the night is winding down. After discussing art for the past hour, he feels like he knows a part of you that normally would take a few dates to come to light. He wonders what you think about the things he has revealed, but doesn't let it worry him. You seem to be only getting more and more comfortable around him as the night goes on. You're calm as could be, your grip on his hand loose and easy. 

Once you and Dan have made it through the whole show, and you make it back to where you started, you sigh in contentment. “Well, I think that's all of it,” you tell him. 

“Aw, I was really enjoying myself,” Dan says. “This was a lot of fun, probably the most chill first date I've ever been on.”

You agree. “Yeah, this was really nice.” 

You're just about to suggest heading out, maybe going to a late dinner, when Dan suddenly seems to realize something. “Oh! We didn't go look at the tree!”

You look up at him, frowning curiously. “What tree?”

“While you were getting your pictures, I heard people talking about an installation in the courtyard outside, so I went to look at it. Come on, you gotta see it.” He gets a better grip on your hand and starts power-walking through the crowd, pulling you along behind him while you laugh in surprise. 

He leads you outside, into a courtyard behind the gallery. There are a few reproductions of famous sculptures out here, like David and Venus. Dan takes you right past these, down a cobblestone path that loops around a fountain, toward a tree.

Or at least, you thought it was a tree at first glance. But as you get closer, and the tree isn't backlit by small spotlights in the ground around it, you realize that this is the installation. The tree is clearly a weeping willow, nearly ten feet tall, but the entire thing is made of metal. The trunk is comprised of wire, varying in thickness, all of it copper, winding up in a loose spiral toward the top. The roots are anchoring the tree to a large rock with a brass plate on it, which has the artist’s name hammered into it.

The branches are just like the trunk, only thinner and able to bob slightly in the night breeze. Attached to the branches, in imitation of a weeping willow’s drooping leaves, are thin silver chains in different lengths. Tiny, handmade brass bells are attached to these chains, so there is a very faint chiming.

Dan is looking up at the tree as if he's never seen one in his life. “Look at it! Someone made that. Isn't it incredible?”

His enthusiasm is incredibly endearing. You forgo holding his hand to cling to his arm, feeling the evening chill but not wanting to say anything to ruin the moment. “It really is,” you agree. “What do you think it means?”

He shrugs. “Does it really matter? I don't mean that in a shitty way, just… Do people ever make art that's just pretty to look at?”

“Of course,” you say happily. “It transcends meaning.”

“Ooh,” Dan says. He shifts a bit and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you in even closer. “I like that.”

There are a few other people outside, some of them looking at the tree. A couple of young women are standing directly underneath it, reaching out to sweep their hands along the low hanging branches. Inspired by this, Dan brings you with him as he walks under the tree.

He looks up at the boughs above him, and you lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He keeps his hands loosely at your waist and starts swaying lazily. Without realizing it, you and Dan have started slow dancing under the tree, the only music the sound of the delicate chains and the bells attached to them tinkling daintily in the breeze. 

You've never been on such an interesting date in your life. Dan is so sweet, and he's polite, and he seems to actually enjoy talking about art with you. On top of all that, he's handsome and charming. You're starting to wonder, as he keeps his hands in an appropriate place and doesn't seem to expect much more than this, where the downside is. No one is truly perfect, but everything you've seen of Dan is as close to perfect as you've ever gotten. Sure, he seems a bit naïve, but to you, it's just cute.

“Hey,” he says suddenly. “Do you wanna go get something to eat? I am starving.”

\--------------------

You get an Uber to take you and Dan back to your place, and then he convinces you to come with him to get a late dinner. You're exhausted from a long day, and so is Dan, but he's getting his third wind as he pulls into a drive-through place. “Sorry this isn't very fancy,” he says ruefully.

You truly could not be less bothered. “Are you kidding? Eating a greasy cheeseburger in a dress is absolutely my aesthetic. Ask them if they can put bacon on mine!”

He looks impressed and amused at the same time; he gets a bacon cheeseburger for you and some kind of chicken club sandwich for himself. Upon pulling up to pay, you get your wallet out. 

“I got it,” he says. He obviously has an advantage over you in this, being in the driver’s seat, but you persist. 

“No, I can pay. You bought lunch, let me get this.”

The cashier opens the window and Dan sighs heavily. “Well, alright. If you insist.”

You hand him your debit card. “I absolutely insist. I'm a modern woman, Dan.”

He passes your card to the bored cashier, saying ‘thank you’ as it comes back with a receipt. He gives this to you. “That you are. I'll let you win this one, but next time I'm taking you somewhere really fancy and expensive and I'll get the bill.”

You put your wallet away as he pulls up again, catching his little smirk. “Well, if that's the plan, I'll order a huge steak.” If he thinks he can out-tease you, he's about to find out how mistaken he is. 

“You can have as many steaks as you want. I'll probably get fish or something, I don't eat red meat.”

You store that information away for further reference. “And I'll get like, three sides. I could eat my weight in mashed potatoes.”

He laughs, imagining a huge pile of mashed potatoes on your plate at a fancy restaurant, and you grinning eagerly. “You better leave room for dessert!”

“Oh I will. I'll get one of those chocolate lava cakes.” Just thinking about it makes your mouth water.

“Ooh,” Dan moans. “We’ll have to split one of those.”

He gets the food and pulls away, passing the bag over to you. He drives for a bit, while you get started on the fries that came with your burger. “So, how come you can't eat red meat?” you ask, rather ungracefully with your mouth full, but you're awfully loopy from being tired.

“I have a sensitive stomach,” he says simply. “There’s certain stuff I can't eat. And I can't drink alcohol.”

“Oh, I see,” you say plainly. “Where are we headed?”

“I don't really know,” Dan admits. “I'm kind of just driving around, I really don't want this to end.”

You dig further into the bag to hide your big smile at hearing him say this; as tired as you are, you feel the same. “I don't want it to end either. Open your mouth.”

He glances at you, silently questioning what you're up to, but slowly opens his mouth. You put a few fries in and he bites down, highly amused. 

“The food is gonna get cold,” you reason. With this logic, he pulls into the parking lot of a CVS so the two of you can eat. 

With the radio on low, you both fall into comfortable silence as you eat. It's getting near eleven-thirty at night, and you know you have to be up at five to go to work tomorrow. You don't know what time Dan normally gets up, which reminds you that you really only just met him today. It feels like you already know him; maybe because he's so open with you, and he's so easy to talk to. But, as you finish off your burger, you wonder what he's not showing you. Everyone has secrets, everyone has their insecurities. He seems pretty confident, though.

Being so sleep-deprived, and enjoying his company so much, you come up with an idea. “So, Dan. How late do you wanna be out tonight?”

He looks a little surprised. “Oh, I dunno. Did you want to do something?”

“Yes,” you say. “If you're okay with it. I wanna go outside the city and see the stars.”

He hums thoughtfully. “That'll be a bit of a drive, but I'm totally down. If it means we don't have to say goodbye yet.”

You can't deny that you love this cheesy, goopy romantic shit. On the drive out, the two of you go back and forth, telling each other things about each other. Favorite bands and movies, childhood stories, and he goes into detail about what he does. 

“I do a youtube show with my buddy Arin,” Dan says as he drives through the thinning suburbs. “We play video games. I've been doing that for… Almost four years. I also have a band with my friend Brian, it's a comedy band called Ninja Sex Party.”

“Oh my god,” you say gleefully. “Ninja Sex Party? That sounds awesome. I'll look it up when I get home.”

“Well, I'm flattered you want to look into it,” he says. “Just keep in mind that I'm playing a character in those videos.”

He talks about Ninja Sex Party for a bit, telling you about how the band struggled at first but is now selling out venues on a national tour. You tell him about your job, and how your ultimate goal is to start a photography studio of your own. 

Though it takes nearly an hour of driving, you've made it out of the confines of the city and on a dusty backroad before you even realize it. Dan pulls over by an empty field, and you step out, looking up at the sky. 

You’re so far from the city lights, there's no light pollution blotting out the stars. At first, you think there's a big cloud stretching across the sky, but as Dan emerges from the back seat with the broken down boxes you saw in there earlier, you start to think it isn't a cloud after all. 

“Come here, ___, let's sit.” He puts the cardboard down a little ways away from the car, and you walk over, still looking transfixed at the sky. 

“There's so many stars!” you say, sitting next to him, tucking your dress under as you do. 

He looks up, too. “Yeah. Have you never seen this many before?”

“Gosh, no,” you say. “It’s incredible! Is that the Milky Way?”

“Yup,” he says cheerfully, finding your enthusiasm very cute. “Kind of makes you feel small and insignificant, doesn't it?”

“No, not at all.” You look away from the sky to look at him. A breeze blows through and you shuffle closer to him. “It makes me feel very important.”

He notices your shiver and starts shrugging out of his leather jacket. While he drapes it over your shoulders, he says, “What d’you mean?” He sounds so interested in your perspective, it only makes you more excited to tell him. 

“Well, when I look at this, I'm looking at, what, billions of stars that are billions of miles away. It's like, people say a single part of a work of art, or some other amazing thing, can't possibly know that it’s a part of something so incredible. But here we are, a part of something incredible, and able to look out at it and appreciate how beautiful it is. And I feel that it's so important to see it, that we’re here to see it, because no other animal, no other living creature will look up at this and be so enraptured by it. And if there's no one around to recognize beauty, is it really beautiful?”

He is quiet for awhile, leaning back with his hands on the ground behind him. He's looking up at the sky, the starlight reflecting in his eyes. Eventually, with great emotion in his voice, he says, “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

You feel so tired, you lean against him and he adjusts how he's sitting so he can support you better. It's got to be close to one in the morning by now, but you just don't care about work tomorrow. You'll deal with that later. For now, you and Dan sit under the stars in silence, crickets chirping all around you. 

You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you know, you're back in the car, which is driving through the streets of the city again. You sit up properly, rubbing your eyes. “Did I actually fall asleep on our date?” you mumble.

Dan laughs hoarsely. “Yeah, but it's late. So late it’s early. When I realized you fell asleep, I put you in the car and started driving back. You did wake up for a bit when I picked you up.”

“Ugh, I'm so sorry, Dan.”

“Don’t be,” he says genuinely. “I kept you out way too late. I did have a really good time, though.”

You settle back into the seat, recognizing your neighborhood as Dan turns down your street. “I did too. This was probably the best date I've ever been on.”

“Well I'm glad to hear it,” Dan says, “’cause I feel the same way.”

He pulls up to your building and walks up with you, up the flights of stairs, keeping one hand on your back. At your door, you both turn to face each other.

You look up at him, feeling pleasantly floaty from your nap. “We should do this again sometime.”

“I do work in the same building as you, we'll see each other a fair bit.” Dan says quietly. “Are you gonna be okay at work? It’s almost three-thirty in the morning.”

You wave his worries away, even as you yawn. “I’ll just work from home so I can sleep in, Billy won't care. What about you?”

He shrugs. “I don't have to go in tomorrow. I do have stuff to do, vocal lessons and recording and whatnot, but not until around noon.”

Satisfied that you haven't set him up for a long day of being miserably sleepy, you pull your keys from your purse. “Well, I guess I'll see you around?”

He smiles, and reaches out to take both of your hands in his. “Definitely. I can't wait to go on more adventures with you.”

Now, the two of you are standing there, like in a cliché movie scene. You look up at him, hopeful. He looks back at you, his eyes darting around, biting his lip, a faint smile on his face.

After a second, he says, “Um, ___. Can I… I mean. Can I…”

You interpret his stammering and answer him by leaning in, tilting your head back, and kissing him. 

He is slightly surprised, but you feel his lips pull up in a grin as he returns the kiss. As he did before, he keeps his hands on your waist, mindful of being respectful. It’s a simple, closed-mouth kiss, but it sends a sensation flowing through you, like warm honey. 

He pulls away, flushing a bit. “Geez, you didn't tell me you could read minds.”

You giggle and pat his chest. “Well now you know. I'll text you later today, after I've slept a bit. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says, letting you slip out of his embrace. 

You unlock your door and walk in, looking back at him from the threshold. 

“Sweet dreams, ___,” he says. 

“The sweetest. And you, too, mister rock star. Text me when you get home, so I know you made it home safe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. 

You laugh; even now, you're both trying to draw the night out. “Alright. Bye, Dan.”

“Byyye,” he says sweetly as you close the door. 

Once the door is closed and locked, you drift into your bedroom and flop onto your bed, thinking that you should at least change out of your dress, but you’re asleep again before you can even think further on it.

\--------------------

Arin is up at eight in the morning, as usual. He wants to get a lot of stuff done today; working with Ross on Gameoverse, meetings with potential sponsors, other businessy bullshit that he's not really looking forward to, but it needs to get done. 

He’s currently in his kitchen, fumbling around with breakfast while Suzy is in the shower. He doesn't really need to be up this early, but he and Suzy have gotten in the habit of taking a walk in the morning, and it really helps getting him ready for the day. Plus, he gets to spend time with his wife. 

Just as he's debating on scrambled eggs versus sunny-side up, he hears the doorbell go off. Suzy, who must have gotten out of the shower already, calls out from upstairs, “I’ll get it!”

At first, Arin assumes she has some kind of delivery coming today, and that's who is at their door. So he thinks nothing of it, just starts buttering up a frying pan as Suzy comes down the stairs, her hair wrapped up in a towel.

Just as Arin is about to crack a few eggs to scramble, Suzy opens the door and he hears a familiar voice. “Hey, Suzy, sorry for bothering you so early.”

Arin forgets about breakfast and goes over to peak through the doorway of the kitchen to see Suzy letting a very frazzled-looking Dan into their home. Arin is immediately worried, but wonders why Suzy knew Dan was coming, but he didn't. 

“Don’t even worry about it. Come on in. Have you even slept? You look exhausted,” Suzy says as she brings Dan into the living room. 

Dan spots Arin eavesdropping on the situation and smiles weakly; Arin can see instantly why Suzy is concerned. Though Dan is wearing a nice shirt, a tie, and dress pants, he looks disheveled. The shirt is wrinkled and untucked, his tie is untied. He’s carrying his shoes, walking around in just socks. His hair is a frizzy mess. Suzy gets him on the sofa, and he falls onto it in a heap. 

Arin has just enough forethought to turn off the stove heading up his frying pan before going into the living room, where Suzy is fretting over Dan. “Tell me what happened,” she's saying as Arin walks in. 

“It was wonderful,” Dan says, a big grin spreading on his face. “She’s so amazing. We were out all night.”

“I can tell,” Suzy says, sounding a bit more harsh than she meant. 

Arin stops next to Suzy and says, “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Dan texted me about an hour ago, wanting to know if he could come over,” Suzy explains. “He said he wanted to get some advice about the girl he went on a date with last night.”

Dan hums, dropping his arm over his eyes, still smiling. “___, ___, oooh ___,” he sings tunelessly.

Arin sits next to Dan on the couch. “Did you get any sleep last night, Dan?”

“Mmmnope,” Dan says. “___ and I went and looked at the stars, I didn't get home until quarter till four. And then I couldn't sleep, I'm so worked up about this girl. I couldn't stop thinking about what she said.”

Arin looks up at his wife, who is frowning at Dan in a good-natured sort of way. He knows how she feels; this isn't like Dan at all. “Maybe you should get some sleep, buddy.”

From his slow, even breathing, and his fully reclined position, he can't be far off from just falling asleep right there on their couch. But, with a great deal of struggle, Dan sits up and looks back and forth between Arin and Suzy. “I don't want to mess this up. I don't think I could take it if I messed it up with another girl. But I don't know what to do.”

Suzy kneels down, putting her hand on Dan’s knee. “You just need to be yourself, Dan. Be open and honest with her. She already likes you, right?”

“I guess so. She did kiss me.”

“Well, there you go,” Suzy says. “Be yourself, and it'll all happen naturally. You're getting all worked up over nothing.”

As Dan rakes his hand through his hair, looking unsure, Arin grabs him by the arm. “Come on, you can sleep in the guest room. You'll feel a lot better after you get some sleep.”

Dan allows Arin and Suzy to lead him up the stairs and into the guest room; Arin provides some clothes for him to change into, and gets Dan’s phone on a charger. Suzy leaves while Dan gets ready for bed, coming back with a mug of tea.

Dan takes the mug with a weary but thankful smile. “You guys know me so well,” he says, then takes a sip of the tea. 

Arin gathers up Dan’s clothes, intending to put them in the wash for him. “Finish your tea and then get some sleep. Alright? Your phone is on the table, it's charging up, so if you need us later you can text us.”

“Thank you,” Dan says in a small voice. 

After making absolutely sure that Dan is alright for the moment, Arin and Suzy leave the room, closing the door as they go. Suzy looks up at Arin, concern written all over her face. Arin gestures toward the stairs, so they go downstairs to discuss what just happened. 

“Was he this bad with his last girlfriend?” Suzy asks while Arin resumes making breakfast. 

“Kind of. He definitely liked her a lot, but he wasn't out all night with her. I bet this is what it’s gonna be like when our kids are teenagers.” 

Suzy sits on the counter, watching Arin make eggs. “I am kind of worried about him. He was in pretty bad shape with that last break up, I don't think I could take seeing him like that again.”

“Yeah, me either,” Arin says softly. “He wants to put everything he can into a relationship, but he has so much going on…”

Suzy and Arin eat breakfast, and head out for their walk. While they're out, Suzy gives Arin a nudge. “Maybe we could help Dan. You know, try to free him up a bit more, so he has more time for himself.”

Arin considers this for a minute. “We could try, but you know how Dan is. He wants to work, and if we don't give him something to do, he'll find something. Or he'll assume there's something wrong. I think the best we can hope for is that this girl is okay with him being really busy.”

“I hope so,” Suzy says. “Dan really deserves to be happy.”

Once they get back from their walk, Arin goes for his shower and Suzy heads upstairs to the guest room. She opens the door as slowly and quietly as she can, and looks inside. Dan is fast asleep, hugging a pillow, nestled deep into the blankets. Suzy tip-toes into the room and gets the half-finished mug of tea, then pauses to look down at Dan.

He’s like a brother to her at this point, and she just wants him to be happy. When he texted her this morning, he seemed almost frantic, overanalyzing everything that happened on his date, getting all worked up about it. When it became apparent that he had been up all night, Suzy invited him over, hoping to help him in whatever way she could. 

She sneaks back out of the room, looking back at Dan again. He will probably be up soon, she can't imagine him being out of it for long. 

\--------------------

When Dan jerks awake, he is not sure where he is. He looks around, trying to fight through the fog in his mind, hoping to get some kind of context to explain how he ended up here and not in his own bed. 

After getting out of bed and stretching, letting out an embarrassingly loud yawn, the cogs start turning and he realizes he's in Arin and Suzy’s guest room. His phone is on the bedside table, so he picks it up and takes it off the charger, and sits back on the bed. 

He remembers getting home, his mind racing a mile a minute about his date and all the things he talked about with you. He had tried to get settled down for bed, but he just couldn't manage it. He kept replaying every moment in his head, unwittingly focusing on how he acted, what he said. He kept finding things in retrospect that made him cringe, and before he knew it, the sun was fully up and he had worked himself into quite a state. In that state, his first thought was to get ahold of someone, anyone, who could provide some insight and tell him if he had actually made an ass of himself. Suzy came to mind first, so he texted her. 

He only has a vague memory of driving over and coming inside. He does remember Arin saying that he and Suzy might be out when Dan woke up, and if he needed anything, he should text them. He does feel a lot better after getting some sleep, his panic all but gone. There's some residual nervousness sticking in his mind, but he's in a better state to deal with it. 

He gets up and walks out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He's been at Arin and Suzy’s place so many times, he knows where everything is and knows he can help himself, so he grabs an apple, takes it out onto the porch, and sits on the steps to eat it.

The warm sunshine wakes him up a bit more, and reminds him to check his phone to see what time it is; nearly three in the afternoon. He regards this with surprise; it’s been a long time since he slept this late. Since he already has his phone out, he texts Suzy and Arin to let them know he's alright, and to thank them for letting him crash here. 

His finger hovers over your name as he debates texting you. He certainly doesn't want to bother you if you’re still asleep, or trying to work, but he also doesn't want you to think he's ignoring you. He does feel like he should text you, since last night went so well. But what should he say? He doesn't want to sound desperate. 

He takes a big bite of the apple, thinking hard about what he should say. He wants so much to impress you, but he doesn't want to overdo it and come off as a huge douchebag. Feeling the tension rise up again, he quickly checks to see what Arin has texted back. 

From Arin: glad to hear you're conscious :) suzy let your vocal guy know you were out of commission, so don't worry about that

Dan groans, dropping his head into his hand. He completely forgot about vocal lessons. He'll have to reschedule that; at least Suzy had the forethought to let his voice coach know what was going on. 

To Arin: tell her I said thank you a million times. I don't know if I should text ___ yet or not

From Arin: of course you should, dude! You’re overthinking this so much, just relax. 

Dan buys some time by taking another bite of his apple, looking out at the street in front of Arin and Suzy’s house. Maybe he is overthinking this. He does tend to do that. 

After a few minutes, he can't take it anymore. Before he can stop himself, he sends you a text, then immediately gets up and goes inside, intending to get his clothes and his car keys and possibly try to reschedule his voice lesson for the day. 

\--------------------

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, looking through the photos you took last night. They're not the best; the framing is off and the photos are overexposed. You might be able to fix it by editing them, but Billy is already so picky about what photos he'll pay you for. But you're not even slightly concerned about it; as you look through them, you remember looking at these pieces with Dan, what he said about them. 

He really is something else. You've never known anyone that would put up with your penchant for looking at the stars, finding meaning in modern art regardless of what the ‘intended’ meaning is. He makes it so easy for you to be yourself, which is almost scary. You've never been so comfortable around someone.

You still have his jacket; you couldn't resist the urge to wear it with your ratty Goodwill tshirt and sweatpants. It brings back memories of high school when the popular girls walked the halls, proudly wearing their boyfriend’s letterman’s jacket. It feels like he still has his arm around you, making you feel all warm and cozy. 

Your phone dings, and you snatch it up eagerly, hoping it's a text from Dan. If anyone else was around, you'd be embarrassed about how eager you are to hear from him again, but it's just you here so you have nothing to hide. 

From Dan: hey lady. I just woke up! How are you? 

You can't help but squeal happily, kicking your feet. The mental image of him all bed-disheveled is painfully cute.

To Dan: hey! Good morning :) I've been up for a bit. I'm doing great. Last night was so much fun! 

From Dan: It was, I haven't had such a good night in a long time. I haven't been able to get you out of my head

To Dan: Aww! I still have your jacket btw

From Dan: whoops :D I hope it has served you well

To Dan: I'm actually wearing it right now lol. It's very cozy. So, what are you up to today? 

He takes a moment to text you back, so you lean back in your chair, looking at your laptop screen. You're not getting much work done, so you abandon it for now and head over to youtube, searching for Ninja Sex Party. As you’re scrolling through the videos, marveling at the thumbnails and song titles alone, Dan texts back.

From Dan: I have my voice lessons in a little bit, and tonight I'm recording some music with Brian for NSP. But between those two things, I'm all yours

You decide to start watching all of his videos from the start with I Just Want (To Dance); Dan looks so different with short hair, you almost don't recognize him in the thumbnail. 

To Dan: In that case, I was thinking about going to the thrift store for some new clothes, you wanna come? 

From Dan: Hell yeah! I'll come pick you up at around 4pm, sound good?

As you click play on the video, and Dan starts singing about being a badass ninja, you text back in the affirmative. Normally, the idea of spending time with someone when you just spent all night with them would put you off; you definitely need downtime. But spending time with Dan isn't nearly as exhausting as anyone else you've ever known. You don't have to put on any kind of pre-loaded personality with him, you can just be yourself. No one has ever made you feel so comfortable in being entirely yourself. 

While you wait for 4pm to come around, you watch as many of his videos as you can. The comments are full of people, including straight men and lesbians, proclaiming their love for Dan. You can hardly blame them, as Dan is quite the charmer. Especially in these videos, playing this goofy character. The music is great, too, and you suppose Brian is responsible for that. It's such 80s fabulousness, you can hardly believe that someone as chill and polite as Dan could think of this stuff. In fact, since you know him as he really is, it only makes this stuff funnier.

You're blown away by how funny he is, and how amazingly well he works with his friends. Youtube suggests some footage captured on a cell phone of a panel at a convention, and you click on it out of sheer curiosity.

From the very start of the video, you’re blown away by the crowd. They start cheering loudly as Dan and Brian walk out onto the stage, and you feel pride swelling up within you. As well as a bit of apprehension. So many people clearly care about them so much, it's a little scary. You begin to wonder how his fans might react to him dating you, but you quickly push those thoughts aside. You like Dan, a lot. You liked him before you knew he had a following of very devoted fans.

With nearly twenty minutes until Dan arrives, you go back to the NSP playlist, turning the volume up as you go change into something slightly more presentable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhhh. I feel like not enough things are happening in these chapters.
> 
> Super big thank you to everyone who has left comments so far! It really helps :D
> 
> There will be smut at some point. Possibly next chapter. Also, I hope you guys don't mind a little bit of a time skip. Like, i might skip a week or two, just to get to an interesting scene i came up with involving cream-filled donuts :0 oh boy


	5. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going very well with Dan, but how long will that last?

You love the thrift store. Working in an office means professional attire, which can get pretty expensive. So thrift stores have been a real life saver for you; it’s a great place to find dress pants and shirts, though there's no guarantee that they'll actually fit.

You pull a graphic tshirt off a rack, admiring the faded design of some 80s band you've never heard of. Dan is standing behind you, holding everything you've already picked out. He insisted on carrying your stuff, and has been pulling things out of nowhere so you can both laugh at them. Christmas sweaters have been the most ridiculous so far.

“Hey, Dan. What d’you think of this?” You hold up the shirt for him to see. 

He squints at the design, barely able to make it out. “Jesus, is that a Stryper shirt?”

You turn the shirt back around to look at it again. “What’s Stryper?”

“They’re a Christian metal band from the late 80s. So, basically, a walking oxymoron.”

“Nice,” you say with a grin. You love this kind of stuff. “It’ll be a bit big on me, but I can sleep in it.”

Dan holds his arm out and you drape the shirt over your other picks. “Is it too soon for me to say that the mental image you just supplied is very attractive?”

You give him an overblown sultry look. “Of course not.”

He smiles, big and bright. “I'm serious, though! I bet you're gonna look super cute in that shirt.”

You just shake your head and move along the rack, only seeing moth-eaten tshirts in varying, dulled colors. “Maybe. I'm not getting it to look cute, I'm getting it because it's awesome.”

“It’s definitely awesome,” Dan says as he looks down at it. “Nothing is more awesome than rocking in the name of Jesus.”

You abandon the current rack and look at Dan with your hands on your hips. He looks back, playing at being uneasy as you scrutinize him. You take all of your picks from his arm. “Let’s find something for you,” you suggest. 

Dan looks mildly surprised. “For me? Like what? Am I not stylishly dressed?” He ends the question with fake emotion, acting wounded. 

You link arms with him and start walking to the other side of the store where the men's clothes are located. “You’re very stylish. But I do like playing dress up.”

“Oh, now we're talking. You saw those NSP videos, right? I love dressing up.”

You and Dan end up going around the store and finding the most ridiculous things you can, and meeting up at the fitting rooms. You come out in a horrible floral-print dress that is clearly a relic of the late 80s, and a cropped jacket that looks like it's made of Muppets. Dan comes out wearing some kind of frilly, low-cut shirt, leggings with some horrible tribal design with the Walmart tag still attached, and a pair of fuzzy legwarmers.

You bust out laughing. “Oh my god, you look like a raver pirate.”

Truly a comedian, he adopts a haughty attitude. “I am Sir Flounce-Alot of Bonerdale, fair maiden. You look like a crazy cat lady, though, straight up.”

You give the musty-smelling dress a twirl. “Don't you think I look good in this? Like I'm straight out of Little House On The Prairie.”

Next, you come out of the fitting room in one of the most horrible Christmas sweaters, with puffballs lining the sleeves and neckline and jingle bells sewn on around felt snowflakes. You also found a tie-dye maxi skirt that, upon trying it on and realizing how comfy it is, you consider actually buying. Dan comes out of his fitting room wearing a cropped, sleeveless mesh shirt, a bright yellow feather boa, huge sunglasses, and a kilt.

“I might actually buy this kilt,” he says. “This feels great, no wonder you ladies love these. Hey, we both wore skirts!”

You admire his long, graceful legs for a moment. “Yes we did.”

“Ah-ha! Like what you see?” He strikes a ridiculous pose, tossing the feather boa over his shoulder like a scarf, sending feathers floating around everywhere. “I'm practically a model. You can look, I'm not ashamed.”

Finally, you and Dan decide to try on clothes that you actually intend to buy. The slacks and dress shirts you picked out all fit pretty well, and the Stryper shirt is just big enough on you that the stretched out collar keeps slipping off your shoulder. You leave the fitting room, putting your nonsense picks on an empty rack nearby. Dan emerges a moment later, wearing a white jacket with black stripes going down the sleeves. “What d’you think?” he asks. 

“That actually looks really good on you,” you say truthfully. “I'm kind of jealous, I look horrible in white.”

He tuts softly, walking closer to you. He plants a quick kiss on top of your head. “You’re a true vision of beauty, no matter what you're wearing. I think I will get this one.” He takes off the jacket as you try to regain your senses. 

After paying, you both head out of the store. Though Dan tries to carry your bags for you, you won't let him. Instead, you trot ahead of him, taunting him. “Too slow, Danny-boy! If I beat you to the car, I get to have a smoke before we leave.”

His smile fades a bit. “Not to, like, boss you around, but I think you should maybe consider quitting smoking.”

You turn back as you reach his car. “I know. Trust me, I know. I've tried to quit, but it's so hard.”

You toss your bags in the back seat, and Dan follows suit once he catches up. “I could help.”

“Really? Did you ever smoke? Is that why it bothers you? Because if you really don't want me to smoke around you, I won't.”

“I never smoked cigarettes,” he admits. “But I did smoke weed for a long time. I know it's different, but I guess I had a sort of emotional dependency on it. Quitting sucked, but I got through it. And it only bothers me because I know it's bad for you, and I don't want you to do stuff that's bad for you.”

You consider it for a moment. Normally you hate when people give you the business about smoking, but Dan seems genuinely concerned about you. You don't want him to be unhappy, and since you smoking makes him unhappy (and is a huge strain on your finances), you decide you could give quitting another shot. “I'll think about it. And just because you're so sweet, I won't smoke at all today. But if I get a shitty attitude, it's because I'm craving nicotine. Not because I'm mad at you or anything.”

He nods once. “It’s a start. Here, let me give you some incentive.” He moves to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, then holds the side of your face as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You let your eyes close as he peppers you with kisses in quick succession. It's hardly anything racy, but it's been so long since you've felt lips against yours, and he's so good at it, that you already feel a bit weak in the knees. 

He pulls back, rubbing his thumb against your temple, his heavy-lidded eyes going back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “How’s that for a reward, huh?”

You find your voice after a second. “That’s a very nice reward.”

\--------------------

Over the next couple of weeks, you drastically reduce your smoking habit. It's made your temper quite short, and you feel on edge a lot more often than not, but every time you see Dan you remember all the reasons why you're quitting.

Your health. Your appearance. Your wallet. And, of course, extra kisses. 

By now, everyone in the office knows that you're trying to quit smoking, and as such, they have given you a lot of space. Except for Angela, of course, who comes by your lonely little cubicle to chat as often as she always does. 

Today is no exception. Angela stops by, halfway through a bagel. “Hey, ___. How’s the not smoking thing going?”

You sigh in agitation as you lean back in your chair. “So bad. I want a cigarette. I want one. Right now.”

“Well, you can’t have one,” Angela says bluntly. “You know, my dad quit smoking awhile back. He said it was one of the hardest things he's ever done, but he did smoke for like twenty years. It's a good thing you’re quitting now. Just give it another week or two, and it'll get easier.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you moan. “Right now, though, it fucking sucks.”

Angela enters your cubicle properly and leans against your desk. “Why don't you get some of those patches or something?”

“I keep meaning to buy some, I just keep forgetting,” you admit.

“More like you don't want to actually commit to quitting,” Angela says. You glare dryly at her, as she just read you like an open book. “What brought this on, anyway?”

You pick up a pen to fiddle with, looking away bashfully. “Lots of reasons. It costs too much money, it's not healthy, that kind of thing.”

“And that boy of yours,” Angela says. You can hear the knowing smirk in her voice. 

“Yeah, alright,” you admit ruefully. “Dan said he doesn't like that I smoke, because it's bad for me. He isn't making me quit, but. I dunno. We only just started dating, I don't want there to be anything that gets between us, you know?”

She shakes her head. “You got it bad, ___.”

“I do. He’s so sweet. I can't help it.”

“Well,” Angela says as she pushes herself off your desk, “I'm just glad to see you happy. Let me know if he ever gives you any trouble.”

You laugh, but Angela is clearly being very serious. “You don't have to worry about him, Angela. He wouldn't hurt a fly.”

Angela gives you a look, trying to determine if she should believe you, and then starts walking away. She stops short in the walkway outside your cubicle, spotting something down the way. “Well, speak of the devil.”

You scoot your chair out enough to lean out, and you see Dan walking toward you, carrying a box and trying to be sneaky.

He's made a habit of sneaking into your office to see you, usually around lunch. Since he doesn't come in to record every day, this means that he stops by the building just to see you, which you find very flattering. At this point, everyone in the office has gotten used to seeing Dan tip-toe through to come see you, so his sneaking act is really just that. A few people even say hello to him as he passes.

He stops just in front of Angela, who is blocking the way into your cubicle. “Hey, Angela,” he says, pouring on extra charm for her.

“Mm-hmm,” she says. “Don’t let Billy catch you in here.”

“He won't,” Dan says as he steps around her. “And if he does, I'll just tell him I'm here delivering lunch to miss ___.”

Angela can't help but crack a smile. “I doubt that'll work, but it's your ass. I'll keep an eye out for the boss-man, he's out vaping in his truck so he shouldn't be back until he gets tired of Tinder.”

“Thank you, Angela!” you say as she leaves; she just waves over her shoulder. 

Dan sits in his usual spot on the floor; there’s no room for another chair, and he doesn't seem to mind the floor. He puts the box on his lap. “How’s it going?”

“I want a cigarette,” you blurt out. 

He pouts sympathetically. “I know, baby girl. Since you've been doing so well, I brought you something nice!” He gives the box a little shake. 

It looks like the kind of box one might get donuts in. “You bring me donuts all the time.”

“These are extra special, though,” he says as he opens the box. “I don't remember who got them, but I specifically saved some for you.”

That makes you nervous. You don't know his friends, and him saving donuts that they paid for to give to his girlfriend that they've never really met might not be appreciated. “Are you sure they're okay with that?”

“Oh, they don't care. I asked if anyone wanted what was left and they said no. Don't worry so much,” he says, grinning up at you. 

“If you say so,” you mumble.

Dan takes a donut out of the box and hands it to you with a napkin. It's got pale pink glaze on top, with a little rose made of frosting. You have no idea what could possibly make this so special.

“I promise it’s a lot more enjoyable if you eat it, as opposed to stare at it,” Dan says. It is a true testament to how much you like him that you manage to not snap at him, what with your nicotine withdrawal.

You take a small bite of the pastry, and in doing so find that it is cream-filled. Not only that, and you are really taken aback by this, it tastes exactly like roses.

“Is it super yummy?” Dan asks. 

“Weirdly, yes. How the heck did they get these to taste like roses?”

“I have no idea,” Dan says. “I guess there's a rose flavor you can just, like, add to stuff. Holly, that's Ross’s wife, she was talking about these the other day. Is it really good? I feel like it would taste weird.”

“You haven't tried one?” you ask, a little astonished. 

“No. Not yet, there was only one left and I was saving it for you.”

You look down at the donut, which has a nice big glob of barely-pink cream about to spill out. Impulsively, you gather this up on your finger and hold it out for him. “Here, see if you like it.”

He looks up at you, then at the cream on your finger. He leans forward and wraps his lips around the tip of your finger, slowly working his tongue around to get every bit of cream. As he does this, he glances back up at you again through his long, dark eyelashes, giving you very obvious bedroom eyes. 

You sit there, watching this happen, feeling his tongue glide around your fingertip, and you have to remind yourself that you're currently at work. Once he's gotten all the cream, he slips his mouth off your finger with a wet little popping noise.

“Mmm, that is good,” he says, his voice deep and rumbly.

You try to compose yourself. “God damn,” you huff.

He laughs, dissolving the mood quite a bit. “Sorry, I couldn't help it.”

“I'm not complaining. That was very hot.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sets the box of donuts aside and gets on his knees, shuffling closer to you. “You liked that?”

You take another bite of your snack, then set it aside. With your lips coated in sugary glaze and rose-flavored cream, you reach down, grab him by the chin, and kiss him. 

It's a different sort of kiss than any other the two of you have shared. You try to put every ounce of urgency you're currently feeling into this kiss, holding his face between both hands so he can't get away. He's perfectly content where he is anyway, parting his lips a bit when you pull back briefly. You sweep your tongue against his, pull slightly at his bottom lip. His hands have found their way up your thighs, covered only by a knee-length skirt that he easily pushes away. 

His quivering fingertips are pressing into your thighs, his breath is quickened. You can't stop kissing him, you can't tame this hot fire rising up in you. He is trying so hard to keep himself from going any further, focusing instead on the way you move your tongue through his mouth, the way you have him so unraveled just by kissing him. 

You pull yourself off his lips with great difficulty and press your forehead against his. Now he’s the one who's flustered. “How was that?”

He works his mouth around, trying to find his voice. “Uh. Uhhm. Buh. That was so great.”

You laugh quietly, tilting your head forward just enough to rub your nose against his. He scrunches his face up, which you think is one of the cutest things you've ever seen him do.

Just as you’re about to go in for more, you hear Angela down the way, talking in a loud, carrying voice. “Oh, hey Billy! I see you're back from lunch early!”

“Shit,” you hiss. Looking around frantically, you come to the realization that there is no escape route available. “Okay, um. Get under the desk.”

Dan looks equally panicked. “What? I don't think I can fit…”

You start shoving him under as he grunts and whines, but with a bit of scrunching up and some swearing on both parts, you manage to get your chair under the desk. Dan is pressed up against your legs, already dissolving into giggles.

“This is just like that scene in The Breakfast Club,” he says. 

Billy is approaching your cubicle, clearly intent on stopping to talk to you. “Shush!” you tell Dan out of the corner of your mouth. “Billy’s coming right this way.”

With Dan bunched up under your desk, shaking with silent laughter, you can only pray he doesn't get noticed as Billy stops at your cubicle. He looks mildly annoyed. “Hey there, ___.”

“Hello, Billy,” you reply monotonously. “Did you need something?”

He hesitates, shifting on his feet a bit. “No, not really. I just got off the phone with Mary Delvue, she wants to know if you'd like to photograph some of her new paintings for her website.”

This has you a bit surprised. You can't imagine why Delvue would want you to photograph her work, you've barely hidden your opinion of her in the few times you've met. Still, it would certainly make for a nice supplement to your paycheck. 

“Well,” you say eventually, “if she really wants me to do it, I suppose I couldn't turn her down. Provided she pays me directly.”

“You’d be going as a representative of Hypnotik, so it'll be added to your paycheck.”

You hear Dan scoff under the desk; you have to clear your throat to cover up the noise. “Then I politely decline. Tell her I said thank you for the offer, but if she wants me to do work during my time off, she can pay me directly.”

Billy frowns at you, clearly not happy with this answer. “I would highly recommend you do it, ___.”

You turn back to your laptop, fighting to stay calm so you don't get on his bad side again. “If you're that hell-bent on me doing this job, tell Mrs Delvue that I'd be happy to, if she pays me directly. That's my final word on it.”

Billy waits around for few seconds, then huffs and turns to leave. Just as you're about to let Dan out from under your desk, Billy turns back around, and you worry that you pushed him to far; you definitely do not want Dan to find out what went on with you and Billy. You obviously derive no pleasure from it, quite the opposite, but imagining how Dan would react to what happened, picturing his look of horror, that alone makes you want to bury that secret as deep as possible. 

Billy, upon turning around, says, “I'll see if she will agree to paying you directly. If she does, will you do it?”

You are so relieved that Billy didn’t bring up the past incidents in his office that you almost forget to answer him. Luckily, this is interpreted as you thinking it over for a second. “Uh. Yes, if she agrees to that… I don't see the harm in doing it. Yes. I'll do it, in that case.”

Billy nods, placated. “Alright, then. I'll contact Mrs Delvue, and I'll let you know what she says about it.”

With that, Billy struts away, as though he just negotiated a hard deal. 

Once he's truly gone, you back out of the desk and Dan crawls out, stretching his back out like a cat as he does. “Geez, that was harrowing. Your boss is a real dick.”

“Oh, I know it,” you say. “Sorry for cramming you under the desk like that, I couldn't think of anything else on such short notice.”

With a bit of effort, Dan manages to get on his feet, wobbling a bit as he does. “It's no big deal. It was kind of fun, actually. I don't usually break the rules like this, and almost getting caught is such an adrenaline rush!”

You stand up, too, and lean into his chest almost without thinking about it. “Uh oh. Am I a bad influence on you?”

He kisses your forehead with a loud ‘mmmwah!’ sound. “You're not a bad person, you’re just sassy. I like sassy.”

“Sassy, huh? I've always been called ‘insubordinate’ or ‘feisty’ or something like that.”

“Ooh, feisty,” Dan says, a little bit of a growl in his voice. “I like that, too.”

He kisses you on the top of your head again, then just stands there, holding you. You know he needs to go, he's a busy guy, he's got a lot to do. You would feel bad for keeping him so long if standing here, surrounded by him, all of your senses taken over by him, didn't feel as good as it does. 

You lay your head on his shoulder. “You have to go back to work, don't you?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Arin and I have a shitload of episodes to do, we'll probably be recording all night.”

With great difficulty, you pull yourself off of him, just enough to look up at him. “Well, I don't want to keep you. You'd better head out, before I decide to just keep you under my desk all day.”

He laughs quietly and steps away. “You're right. If I don't go right now, I don't think I'll ever leave.”

“Have a good day at work, then.”

“I will,” he says absently. As he starts to leave, he turns back. “Hey, since I'm gonna be recording all night, you should stop by. Like, around dinner time?”

This request has you caught off guard a bit. You have yet to meet his friends, all you know about them is what Dan has told you. Meeting his friends makes you nervous a little bit; they're important to him, and you want to make a good impression. 

Dan notices your hesitation. “Don’t worry, ___, it'll probably just be Arin and me in the office tonight. Maybe Ross or Barry, but they're harmless. And they're all dying to meet you.”

You sigh. “Yeah, okay. I'll come see you for dinner.”

“Really?” he says, surprised that it didn't take any more convincing. “Awesome! Oh, I can't wait. I'll tell the guys to be on their best behavior.”

Unable to stop himself, he darts forward and takes your hand in his and peppers it with noisy kisses while you laugh. “I can't wait to meet them.”

Dan leaves after that, practically bouncing out of the office. You watch him go, left with a delightful fuzzy-headed feeling. He tends to have that effect on you. 

Once he's gone, you sit back down at your desk and try to get back to work. You eat the rest of the rose-flavored donut, the taste of it keeping the fire Dan kindled with his kiss alive. 

It's been ages since you were last intimate with anyone, and Billy definitely doesn’t count. Each time you slept with a boyfriend, you could feel the expectation put on you to make the experience good for him. You already know it'll be different with Dan, he's unlike anyone you've ever met. It goes beyond the typical stuff, like holding doors open for you and offering to carry things and stuff like that. It's just his nature to be kind and considerate. You can't think of a single example of a guy doing something like what he did with that cream on your finger, something that you would find very erotic and would get you horny as fuck, but likely wouldn't get the guy going. In your experience, guys have wanted you to do that stuff. It's such a role reversal that it only makes it hotter.

Right now, reflecting on that moment while you finish off your donut just makes you want him so much more. It's been a few weeks, you've both gotten through that ‘getting to know you’ period of dating. Surely now you can move on to sex. But you don't want to come on too strong, it might give off the wrong impression. And it has been such a long time, what if you're not good at it anymore? What if you don't know what to do once you're in bed with him? 

This fretting, on top of the constant, underlying need for a cigarette, is making you grouchy again, so you push it all aside and focus on work with full force.

\--------------------

Billy finishes off his mid-day jack off session, feeling anything but satisfied. Mere moments ago, he saw HIM walk by, full of swagger. It put Billy off so much he had to go onto your Instagram to get it up again.

Billy knows he loves you. He knows he could be perfect for you. He knows what you need; you need to be dominated. You need to be handled rough. That's what you want. Why else would you act out all the time, pushing his buttons, if you didn't want to be punished? Why else would you talk down to him, like you did today, if you didn't actually enjoy it? 

You really threw Billy for a loop with this Dan guy. He just isn't right for you, he's one of those touchy-feely types. And Billy is not stupid, he knows about Dan coming in nearly every day to see you. He could say something to you, get you in his office and straighten you out again, but he's trying to do this right. 

After cleaning up the mess from jerking it, Billy picks his phone up off his desk and calls Mary Delvue.

She picks up after a few rings. “Hello, Mr Upchurch,” she says, her haughty voice grating on Billy’s ears. 

“Hullo Mrs Delvue. I talked to ___ about getting those photos, she said she'd only do it if you pay her directly.” He still can't believe the gall behind that demand. He had planned on getting a cut of the money, and he would’ve pressed for it, but getting this to work is more important than some extra money in his pocket. 

“Oh, she outsmarted you there,” Delvue says with a laugh. “I knew she wouldn't let you call the shots on this. But, if that's what she wants, then I'm fine with it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just remember what we agreed on. If you screw me over on this, don't expect any more pity from me. You'll have to find another magazine to bribe into putting you on their cover.”

“Of course,” she says easily. “You know, it's been a long time since I was involved in something so sordid, it’s quite exciting.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Please, you are hardly innocent. Just let me know when you want her to stop by, and remember the plan. Got it?”

“Yes, yes. Don't you worry, Mr Upchurch, if there's one thing I know, it's how to destroy a relationship.”

Given that she's been divorced several times, he doesn't deny it. Billy looks at his laptop, on which he has the about page of a youtube channel called Game Grumps. Just glancing through the content makes him sneer. “The guy’s name is Dan Avidan. Tall, scrawny, looks like if someone made a mop sentient.”

“I'll have my man look into him,” Delvue says. “Just remember to get me those photos.”

“No problem,” Billy says, looking up at the shelves lining the wall of his office, where he put a webcam. It's a very inconspicuous, sitting around various other knick-knacks and things. 

After wrapping up the call with Delvue, Billy leans back in his chair. Once he gets this plan rolling and gets this guy to dump you, he'll move in and finally prove that you belong with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP. Intrigue. Billy sucks, doesn't he? What could he be planning??
> 
> Also i swear that rose flavor is a real thing. I don't know if they actually make donuts with it, but if they don't, they SHOULD.
> 
> Smut will probably happen next chapter. I kind of got bored with this one, sorry if it's too short. Also, there will be another scene of sexual harassment with Billy. It's still awhile off, I'll give you a heads up before it happens.


	6. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dan get just a little bit closer.

Dan is counting down the minutes until eight o’clock.

He texted you earlier, letting you know that he'd be taking a break for dinner around eight. You responded saying you'd bring him something, and not to go out and buy anything. You even asked if you should bring something for Arin, but with him on another diet Dan told you not to worry about it. 

He does enjoy his job, so much. And these episodes have been really great; Arin is about to finish Breath of the Wild, so it's very exciting. Dan is able to distract himself both from how hungry he is and how excited he is to introduce you to one of his best friends by focusing on the game.

Finally, Arin reaches a good spot for ending the episode and they wrap up. He pauses the game and gets up to stretch. “Man, I am so fuckin’ hungry. You ready for a break?”

“Yes,” Dan says. He follows Arin out of the recording room, checking his phone. “___ should be here any minute.”

“I can't wait to meet her,” Arin says excitedly. “The way you talk about her, she must be some kind of goddess.”

Dan sits at one of the tables in their kitchen area while Arin gets something out of the fridge. “I can't help it, man. She's too good for me.”

Arin sits across from Dan with some sort of lunch meat concoction, like a sandwich, but with romaine lettuce instead of bread. “Nah, man. From the sound of it, you're both just right for each other.”

Dan doesn't say anything to this, just grins lazily as he stares off into space. ‘Maybe it'll work out this time,’ he thinks. ‘Maybe I can make this one work.’

Not too long after, Dan gets a text from you. He scrambles to get his phone out of his pocket, which Arin thinks is just hilarious.

“Dude,” he says with a mouthful of food.

From ___: hey I'm standing outside the door, what's the number

Dan can't believe he forgot about the door. It has a security lock with a number pad to open it. He sends you the number, then hurries over to the door to meet you. 

You walk through the door with a plastic bag hanging from your arm just as he approaches. “Hey,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Sorry, I totally forgot about the door.”

“Don't worry about it,” you say happily. You hand him the plastic bag, which has two tupperware containers and two cans of Arizona tea inside. “Here, I hope you like spaghetti. It's one of like, five things I know how to cook.”

“I love spaghetti,” he says, leading you over to where Arin is still eating. You follow him, a little bit behind him. 

He can tell you’re nervous, and he also knows you soon won't be. One of the many things he loves about Arin is how accommodating he is of people who might be nervous when meeting him for the first time. 

Dan sits down, and you sit next to him. “Arin, this is my girlfriend, ___. ___, this is my best friend, Arin.”

Arin has enough manners to swallow what's in his mouth before speaking. “Hey, ___. Dan’s told me all about you,” he says, reaching out to shake your hand.

You shake his hand while Dan gets everything out of the bag. “It’s nice to meet you, Arin. I've heard a lot about you, too.”

Arin gives Dan a look, and Dan pauses as he opens the tupperware of spaghetti. “Nothing but good things,” he assures Arin.

“Uh huh,” Arin says. “So, ___, just fair warning, Dan kicks in his sleep.”

As you’re wondering how Arin would know this, Dan protests. “What! I do not.”

“And he’s bad at video games.”

This is clearly something of an inside joke, as Dan laughs with a mouthful of spaghetti.

“I’m pretty awful at video games, too,” you say, “so that's not a big deal.”

“Oh, yeah?” Arin says. “Do you play anything?”

“Not really,” you say airily. “I played a Pokemon game awhile back, but I just don't have time for it. Or the money, if I'm honest. Video games are expensive!”

“Yeah, they sure are. I just know E3 is gonna happen and my wallet is going to stage a strike,” Arin says dryly. 

To your surprise, Dan is almost halfway through his container of spaghetti. “Shit, this is really good,” he mumbles.

You laugh. “It’s just spaghetti.”

“It’s the best spaghetti I've ever had,” Dan says with a flourish. 

He continues eating while you and Arin talk about Pokemon, content to just watch while you hit it off with him. It makes him incredibly happy to see you getting along with Arin, talking about which Pokemon are your favorites, whether you have played Sun and Moon yet, whether or not you played Pokemon Go last summer. Dan knew from the moment he suggested you meet Arin that you would have nothing to worry about; you're sweet and polite, he's used to making conversation work with someone new. 

Once you and Dan have finished eating, he gets up. “You want a quick tour?”

“Sure,” you say eagerly. “I have to say, this place is less of an office and more of a huge living room.”

Arin also gets up, grabbing the tupperware to toss it into the sink. “I'll take that as a compliment. Take your time showing her around, I have some stuff to catch up on.”

“Thanks,” Dan says, and starts leading you away. 

Before you and Dan can get very far, Arin says loudly, “No making out, though! You're still on the clock!”

Dan is about to say something snarky in response, but you beat him to it. “Aww, man, I was totally looking forward to seducing you.”

“Dang it, Arin!” Dan cries dramatically, turning to shake his fist at him. “Way to be a cockblock!”

The tour of the office is fairly short; Dan shows you the arcade cabinets, the recording rooms, the engineering room, and finally the actual office, where desks are strewn about openly.

“Where’s your desk?” you ask.

“I don't actually have one. I worked in a cubicle and hated it, I never want to do that again, so I just do my work over here,” he explains, gesturing to a very comfy-looking couch.

You walk over and sit on the couch, bouncing on it a little bit, as if testing it out. Dan stands there, watching you do this, trying to not lose his composure. 

“This is a nice couch,” you say. “ Very comfy. I'm a little jealous, actually.”

He licks his lips as you nestle into the cushions; it’s too soon, he tells himself. Don't rush it. Do not ruin it this time. 

You pat the seat next to you, so he sits down next to you and you wrap yourself around him, laying your head on his shoulder. He settles into the feeling of having someone close; it’s been awhile, and he had almost forgotten how nice it feels to feel needed. He doesn't want to get too ahead of himself, but this feels slightly different than other relationships he's been in. 

Before that faithful day when he helped you carry your laptop into the building, he had only seen you rushing in and out, looking very busy and a bit harried. Maybe it was the usual messy bun, held up with a pen. Maybe it was the way you would blow by him and his friends, entirely focused on what you were doing. Once or twice, he can remember making accidental eye contact, and your gaze was so intense that he would instinctively look away. 

Now, sitting here on this couch that has felt so big and lonely, with you practically in his lap, he's found the softer side of you. As much as he enjoys sex and making out and all of that, this is what he really loves. This is what he missed most about being in a relationship, these quiet moments of simple physical closeness. 

He casually runs his hand through your hair, and you sigh happily as you nuzzle further into the junction of his neck and shoulder. If you were a cat, he feels that you would probably be purring right now.

Arin walks through the room, heading towards his desk. He looks over at Dan, and Dan just grins and waves lazily. Arin silently imitates a screaming girl at the sight of you and Dan on the couch, and Dan chuckles quietly.

You look up as Dan’s laughter rouses you, and you see Arin beaming at you both. Dan kisses you on top of your head. “Don’t worry about Arin,” he says, his voice soft and low. “He thinks we’re being cute.”

“So fuckin’ cute!” Arin cries as he goes to his desk, flopping dramatically into the chair. “All snuggled up on the couch like that, god damn it.”

You wrap your arms tighter around Dan. “If we’re distracting you, maybe I should go.”

“Nooo,” Dan whines. 

“You’re fine,” Arin says. “It just makes me so happy to see Dan happy.” He turns to his computer, going into his email. “He’s got a lot of love to give, and he deserves just as much in return.”

Dan can feel himself blushing. He looks down at you to gauge your reaction to this, to find that you're looking right back at him. You reach up to move a few stray curls away, your hand lingering at the side of his face. “He definitely deserves the very best.”

Dan doesn't know what to say to that, so he just accepts the flush of embarrassment and allows you to kiss him. 

He loves your kisses. They almost always start off quick and innocent, before quickly getting heated and you seize control of the moment. While he definitely loves the moments when he sweeps you off your feet, he almost can't stand how much he enjoys you pulling him apart like this. He feels the familiar current winding up his spine as you work his lips apart, dipping your tongue inside, one hand fisted in his hair, the other lightly pressing on his chest. His heart is racing against your palm, his skin feels too hot, and you have stolen him away to this place where you have immeasurable power over him. It almost scares him a little how willing he is to be held captive by you, but you hold him so tenderly, and you moan his name with so much need, such a strong desire for him, that he thinks that the feeling might be mutual. 

While this happens, Arin glances over. He sighs and shakes his head before checking the time; he'll give this ten minutes before he breaks it up. He and Dan still have work to do, after all. He doesn't think this will be a common occurrence, and he's willing to let it slide this one time. After all, Dan has been so lonely and so starved for affection for so long, he feels it would be more beneficial to let you and Dan have your moment. 

When Dan lets out a very distinct moan of pleasure as you kiss along the side of his neck, though, Arin jumps up. “I’ll be in the recording room! I'm just gonna. I don't know. Don’t have sex on the couch, please. Alright. Um. Okay.” And he quickly leaves while you and Dan watch, faces flushed.

Dan grins guiltily. “Oops.”

You get off of him, very reluctantly. “Sorry, I hope you're not in trouble.”

Dan scoffs. “Pshh. With Arin? Nah. He might, very technically, be my boss, but I don't think he's mad or anything. Though we should probably avoid making a habit out of this.”

“Sorry,” you say again. “I just can't help myself around you.”

He pulls you back onto him, holding you close. “It’s alright, baby girl. The feeling is definitely mutual.”

\--------------------

It’s amazing to you, how fast things have changed. 

Before you started dating Dan, you would face each day like you were going into battle. You would smoke almost a full pack of cigarettes a day. You would get home from work, eat some meager dinner, and be out the door to photograph an art show. You had settled into a routine, struggling to make a living in LA, where everything is too expensive. Seeing other couples around, you'd feel the sting of jealousy but quickly dismiss it. ‘I don't have time for that,’ you'd tell yourself. Now it's different, now the toughest parts of your day are bookended with Dan. He’s become such an integral part of your day, you don't know what you're gonna do when he goes on tour.

You’ve met most of his friends by now, and they're all as great as he described them. The only one you haven't met yet is Brian, but Dan assures you that you'll meet him eventually. They all love to pick on him, especially Ross. They're like siblings, and Dan is definitely not innocent in this. The other day, while having dinner with him at his office, you watched in awe as he snuck up on Vernon, who was standing off to the side talking to Arin. Dan reeled back and smacked Vernon so hard on the ass, Vernon nearly fell over. 

One month into the relationship, and you still haven't done more than kiss. He seems content enough with that, but you can tell how he struggles to not cross a line when he has his hands on you. It's hard for you, too. You want to explore his entire body, you want to see him come apart completely. You wake up from dreams of him on top of you, moaning your name. Every time, you wake up with your hand drifting drunkenly around your most erogenous areas; one hand pressing hard into your clit, the other grabbing your own breasts. It's almost embarrassing, but it just hammers home the truth of the matter. 

You want Dan. You want to suck his dick, even if you've only done it once or twice before with another guy. You want him inside you, even if you're not confident in yourself as a lover. You want him to go down on you, oh god you want that so bad. In the moments where you are piled up in his lap, his arms around your waist, his tongue flitting past your eager lips, you wonder what he could do with that mouth on your clit. 

You have to shake these thoughts as you pull up to Dan’s house, your piece of shit car having one last engine misfire before you turn it off. You have a plan in place for a romantic evening, and you don't want to get too excited. 

You walk up to his front door, noticing his dusty lawn and the wilting juniper bushes by the steps. You're aware that he pays someone to take care of his lawn; just about everyone in this area does. But with the days getting increasingly warmer, everyone's lawn looks a bit worse for the wear. Dan isn't much of a handyman, anyway; he can handle a few household problems, but that's about it. But the thought of him out in the sun in an old tshirt and ratty shorts, pushing a lawn mower, rekindles the fire you’re trying so hard to keep at a slow burn.

As you ring his doorbell, you rethink your fantasy. Not only is that some really cliché romance novel shit, but Dan apparently doesn't have fully functioning sweat glands, so it's very unlikely he'd be out mowing the lawn in this heat. 

Dan opens the door, and he lights up like a Christmas tree when he sees you. “Hey, baby! Come on in, I was just wondering where you were.”

You come inside, going directly to his kitchen as he follows. “ Sorry, my car is acting up again.” You start looking through his cabinets for ingredients for dinner so the two of you can cook together. 

Dan embraces you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. There's a definite tired slump in his posture as he leans against you. “You know I don't mind picking you up, right?”

“…I just feel bad, having you cart me around. I should just bite the bullet and get a new car, I hate having to worry about that piece of shit starting or not.”

He presses his face into the back of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I would rather come get you and jam out to the radio with you, than have you end up stranded somewhere.”

You turn in his loose grip and face him; he looks exhausted. “Are you sure you’re okay? How much sleep did you get last night?”

He sighs loudly, his eyes fluttering shut as he sets his forehead against yours. “I'm fine, I promise. There's just a lot going on right now.”

You tut sympathetically and start leading him over to the kitchen table, getting him to sit down. “I'm so proud of you, Dan. You're working so hard… You really are a rock star!”

As you dip down to kiss the top of his head, burying your face in his fluffy curls, he laughs and wraps his arms around you again, yanking you rather ungracefully into his lap. “Thank you,” he says with a great deal of sincerity. “You know, it's weird to think about… I almost didn't think I would make it to this point. Paying my bills with my music career.”

“Well, here you are,” you say as you play with his hair. “Selling out venues and shit.”

You consider getting off his lap to get started on dinner, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. He's got one arm loosely around your hips, the other laying across your knees. His head is resting on your shoulder and his eyes are already closed, his breathing getting slow and steady as you brush curls back, away from his face. He is smiling faintly, looking so content that it makes your heart swell with delight. These quiet moments make you appreciate him even more, because even if the two of you haven't slept together yet, the intimacy of this is just as powerful as any sex you’ve ever had. If anything, having him drift off like this with you is more intimate than anything you've ever done with a partner. He trusts you, he feels safe around you. 

You don't know how you got so lucky.

Eventually, he realizes he's about to fall asleep and forces himself awake; he looks up at you, an apology already forming. 

“Don't say you're sorry,” you say as you stroke the stubble along his jawline. “Okay?”

He doesn't say anything, just looks back up at you as you caress the side of his face. He has a strange look in his eyes, the light in them that makes them so magnetic is so bright and powerful that it steals your breath away. 

Just as he is tilting his head back, you lean down to kiss him. Your hand winds up back in his hair, grabbing a fistful of it, while he runs his fingers along your spine, trembling slightly with desperate need. He always tastes so good, his lips are soft and pliable against yours. You can taste some lingering sweetness, most likely honey from a cup of tea. 

He starts kissing along your jaw, and you lean into it, pressing into him, his stubble burning you in such a wonderful way. Everything is overtaken by him; the feeling of his lips, pressing feverishly into your skin, making each spot he touches burn and tingle. His quickened breath fills your ears, his quick little moans mingling with your own noises of desperate need. And the scent of him, you feel drunk on it. Sandalwood and cinnamon, and the underlying note of his own body, something unique to him.

The glowing embers you tried to keep from igniting earlier are burning at a full blaze, and judging by the growing erection pressing against your leg, it's the same with him. You pull back, holding his face between both hands; he looks lost for only a second before his dazed, sleepy eyes find yours. He catches his breath as you run your thumb along his cheekbone, taking him in. His lips are still parted, red and kiss-bruised. His face is flushed splotchy red.

You smile at the sight of him, totally pliable and lost in bliss. “Danny,” you say, trying to bring him back just a little bit.

The crooked grin he supplies upon hearing you call him Danny is so adorable. “Yeah?”

You go back to smoothing his hair back, because you know how much he likes it. “I think we should put a hold on making dinner.”

It takes him a second to catch on, but once he does, the silly grin blooms into a full-on eager smile. “Oh! Really? You want to?”

“I fuckin want to,” you growl. He groans and wraps his arms around you. 

“I don't want to rush you into anything,” he says. “Like, I definitely want it, too, but…”

You cut him off. “Shush. I need you, Dan. God damn, I need you so bad… Right now, right fuckin now.”

You then get off his lap and take his hand, tugging him out of the chair. He comes along willingly, letting you pull him through the house towards his bedroom. 

The two of you don't make it too far before you are overcome again and have him pinned against the wall, ravishing him with messy, clumsy kisses. He gets his hands under your shirt and runs them up your sides, moving his fingers over your breasts in spite of your bra being in the way. One instance of pressure flitting over your nipple and you moan loudly into his mouth, and you feel his lips turn up into a mischievous smile.

Now he takes the lead, shoving off the wall and leading the way into his bedroom. You turn to walk in backwards, still kissing him, his hands still exploring what he can't yet see. In one quick motion, you take off your shirt and toss it away carelessly. Dan takes a break from your fire-hot kisses to look down at you. 

You sit on the bed, finding his attention both flattering and a bit intimidating. You try so hard to keep from overthinking, but it has been so long. And this is really about to happen, he's looking at you with a hunger in his eyes that you've never seen there before. ‘Don’t panic,’ you tell yourself. “It’s just Dan. You know you want him, don't get all jumpy or you'll scare him off.’

His expression, like rapture, upon taking you in boosts your confidence greatly. He looks like a man who just discovered a magnificent treasure, and though he yearns to pluck you up, he approaches slowly, carefully.

He kneels down onto the floor in front of you, and looks up again, silently asking permission. With a nod from you, he reaches up and caresses the soft mound of your breasts, and each time he runs a finger over the thick fabric where it covers your nipples, you can't stop yourself from moaning. You're already getting wet, you can feel it. You can appreciate foreplay, but if he drags this out too much longer you might explode.

With the heat of the moment overtaking you, you reach down and grab the hem of his shirt and yank it off of him. He's a bit surprised, but once it's gone, he leans in again. 

You are somehow surprised at the sparse hair on his chest, so you rake your fingernails gently over it and he shows his appreciation with a shiver. He kisses you just behind your ear as his hands snake down, past the waist of your jeans.

“Danny,” you breathe, fluttering his long hair. “Danny, please…”

“Shh, baby,” he says, his voice low and tender. “I got you.”

Wrapping his arms around you again, he slowly leans you back onto the bed. Once you're there, he reaches around your back to undo your bra while kissing along your neck and shoulder. While he's doing this, you're fumbling with the button of your jeans, desperate to get out of them. 

Too many clothes. Too hot. Get them off. You need to feel him against you with your whole body, you need to get all of these unfortunate barriers out of the way. 

As you try to wiggle out of your jeans, Dan gets your bra undone. He notices your predicament and chuckles, not unkindly. “Need some help?”

“Yes, please,” you respond drunkenly. Dan easily removes your bra, and the cool air against your chest is such a relief. 

He can't stop himself from kissing his way down, torturously slow, stopping to press his lips just next to your nipple, making your breath catch. He continues on his path, stroking his fingers along your bare skin, kissing just under your breasts, your stomach, your hips. He comes to the waistband of your jeans and pushes away the open fly, kissing the increasingly sensitive skin of your lower abdomen.

He hooks his thumbs through the belt loops, agonizingly slow, and starts pulling your jeans down. Each strip of skin he uncovers is like a new flavor that he has to stop to taste. You're squirming at this point, with your jeans halfway down your thighs. Then, he looks up at you and you lock eyes with him; he looks just as blissfully delirious as you, his face flushed and his eyes barely focused. Without warning, he pulls your jeans off completely and makes quick work of his own, tossing both away carelessly. 

“Bullshit,” you say as he reaches to do the same with your panties. “You’re teasing the fuck out of me, and you just get naked, just like that.”

He pauses, trying to determine if you're actually mad about this, but you take this opportunity to sit up again. With him kneeling between your legs, you wrap them around his hips, capture him by throwing your arms around his shoulders. You take his lips as payment for his teasing, unable to keep from rutting against him once you feel the rock-hard erection through his boxers.

Now he feels the urgency as you rub your hips against him; a tremor rips through him as he gasps for air against your intense kiss. Taking you entirely by surprise, he stands up, taking you with him. You readjust your grip on him as he gets on the bed properly and sets you back down near the head. 

Once you’re on the bed again, with him on his knees above you, you get on your knees yourself and continue kissing him, relishing the sounds he's making, the feel of his hands shaking slightly as he gets lost again in having you take him apart so efficiently. You start pulling his boxers off, just as agonizingly slow as he did to you. Once they're around his knees, you can't stop yourself from looking down at what he's working with. 

“So big!” you say cheerfully, making Dan laugh. 

The last remnants of clothing don't last much longer; you get out of your panties and he takes his boxers off the rest of the way, and you lean back onto the pile of pillows behind you. He stays straddling you on his knees, taking in the full vision of you completely naked before him. 

“God, you're so beautiful,” he says. “I don't even know where to start.”

You open your legs, all hesitation blown out the window at the glorious sight of his hard dick. “You can start by getting inside me. Right now. Please.” You tack the last part on purely for the sake of manners. 

He scrambles for the bedside table, yanking open the drawer and grabbing a condom. You don't allow yourself to think about the implications of him having condoms right by the bed, you just wait impatiently while he tears it open with his teeth, spitting the bit of plastic away, and makes to get it on. 

You sit up, swatting his hands away. “Let me do it,” you say, and he drops his hands to the sides. 

You work the condom over the head of his dick, already leaking precum, and slowly unroll it down his shaft. “Mmm… I can't wait. I cannot wait to get this in me. If it'll even fit,” you say, looking up at him. In your experience, guys like it when you stroke their ego like this. 

“Jesus Christ,” he says, grinding out the words while he grabs the bedcovers in his fists, swaying a little on his knees. 

Satisfied that you've gotten him back for teasing you earlier, you slide the slippery latex down the rest of his shaft and lean back again. “Alright. There we go.”

He wastes no time in getting on top of you, holding himself up from his elbows. He kisses you again, quick and sloppy. “Ready?”

You thread your fingers through his hair, holding on desperately. “If you don't get that dick in me, I'm gonna be real upset.” 

He just grins eagerly. You can't wait another second, and when you feel the head of his cock press gently into you, you can't stop yourself. You snap up and grab him by the ass, give him one little glance to take in his surprised expression, then you pull him towards you. 

He slides in easily, though you're so tight from not having sex for so long, you can't take him in as hard and fast as you'd like. He eases into you, concerned for your safety, fighting your pull on him ever so slightly. “Easy, babe, h-hang on,” he stutters. 

Once he's balls-deep inside you, you redouble your grip on his ass and hold him there. He makes the most delightful noises, his whole body shaking. “God. Oh… God. Baby, you’re so tight. Holy shit. Holy shit, babe.”

Finally getting what you want has never felt so good. The feeling of him filing you up is so perfect, so wonderful. Your hold on him slips away and you fall back onto the bed as he tries to regain control, his trembling hands holding you by the hips, looking down at you while he bites his lip, whimpering quietly.

You let your eyes slip closed in pleasure as he slowly starts thrusting, taking every ounce of self control in doing so. He's going so easy on you, and while you do love a rough fuck, there's something about this that you also enjoy very much. His slow, deliberate movements, his shaking hands stroking your fevered skin. His quickened breath, and those noises. God, the noises. Growls and whimpers and moans; you're so lost in the feeling of him inside you that you can't tell which of you is making which sound. 

You raise your hips slightly, aching for more. “Faster,” you say faintly.

He obliges, and as he does, the head of his cock runs over that knot of sensitive nerves inside you and you cry out.

Dan makes to pause, to ask if you're okay, but you raise your hips again. “Do that again,” you demand.

He grins, big and bright, realizing what he found and readjusting to hit that spot with each thrust. 

“Oh God, oh God,” you say, the tide looming over you, about to break over you. When you look up at him, you figure that he can't be too far behind. 

“So close,” is all he says. As impractical as it is, you want to come at the same time. Even though you feel the rolling tremors in your inner muscles, and you feel the hot tingle starting at your toes and quickly rising up your body, you try to hold back for him. 

You can't hold back for long, though. The orgasm comes fast and hard, like a sudden tempest, and you're crying out in absolute, maddening pleasure. You have to anchor yourself to something, so as Dan leans down, quickly following you in blissful orgasm, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold on to him. He chokes back his own cries of pleasure, the sounds of it directly by your ear. 

The two of you stay like that, riding out the tumultuous waves of satisfaction together. You feel your anatomy twitch and roll, you feel him buck impulsively a few times as the heat overtakes him. When the tidal wave recedes and you can finally breathe again, Dan goes limp, just able to not fall entirely on top of you, but just to the side. His face is mere centimeters from yours, his ragged breathing blowing over your face. 

It takes a few seconds of panting before your senses return to you just enough to turn and lay on your side, carefully hooking your leg around him. “That was lovely,” you tell him, running your fingers over his chest. 

He is still quite dazed, but he smiles and cups the side of your face with one hand. Words are a foreign concept to him right now, but you see what he wants to say in his eyes. 

There’s no telling how long the two of you lay there before Dan regains the ability to speak coherently. “We forgot about dinner,” he says weakly. 

He makes to get up, getting rid of the used condom and tossing it into a waste basket by the bed, but you pull him back. “It can wait, can't it? I wanna wallow naked in bed with you.”

He laughs as you yank him back onto the bed. “Yeah, it can wait.” And he wraps you up in his arms, holding you impossibly close. 

\--------------------

You're not sure when you fell asleep, but when you wake up from gnawing hunger, the sun is just about to rise, not even over the horizon yet. It must be no later than six in the morning, which makes sense as you and Dan had snuggled up for post-sex cuddles around eight-thirty or so. Honestly, you're surprised that you stayed asleep as long as you did. It's definitely no surprise that Dan is still fast asleep, though.

He’s laying on his back and you're almost entirely on top of him, your head on his chest, your legs wrapped around him, his arm looped over your waist, keeping you close. You can hear his slow, steady heartbeat, feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. His face is turned toward you, his lips barely parted. You're so glad he's getting caught up on sleep, because with everything he has going on right now, getting a good night's rest has fallen to the wayside and you've been worried about him. 

Your gut growls loudly, and while you want nothing more than to drift back to sleep in his arms, you hadn't eaten much yesterday and the two of you inadvertently skipped dinner. With great difficulty, and trying very hard not to wake Dan, you sit up and move to get out of bed. As you're looking around for your clothes in the dark bedroom, Dan whines quietly and you hear him move around under the covers, looking for you. 

You go back to the bed and sit on the edge of the mattress. Dan is looking up at you, bleary-eyed and more asleep than awake. He reaches for you, so you take his hand and kiss it softly.

“Come back to bed,” he says, his voice rough and cracking. “’S too early to be up.”

You run your hand over his hair, pushing it away from his face. He leans into the touch, his eyes slipping closed of their own accord. You feel a flutter in your stomach at the sight of him; he's never tried to pass himself off as a tough guy, not seriously anyway, but seeing him like this awakens some protective instinct in you. You can't remember ever feeling this way about a guy before, they usually get all upset at the barest hint of anything that could possibly mean them being emasculated.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” you whisper. “I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here when you wake up.”

He sighs, lost in bliss as you smooth back his long hair. Once he's settled back down, you pull the covers up over his shoulders and lean down to kiss him on the temple, lingering to take in the scent of him. 

You get back to looking for your clothes, deciding to just wear your panties and Dan’s shirt because that's all you can find on the floor at the moment. As you pull the shirt on, Dan mumbles, “Love you.”

You freeze up. Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that…? He probably doesn't even realize what he said, as he's already fallen back to sleep. Isn't this too soon? Is there even a time frame for saying that? You've heard him tell his friends that he loves them, so clearly he has no problem expressing his feelings in that regard. 

You know immediately that you feel the same. You walk out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you and heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast, feeling dazed. Did he mean to say that? Does he really love you? Did that carry a different weight than when he says it to his friends? And anyway, you love him, too. You know it, you've known it at some level for a little while, but you felt it wasn't appropriate to say it just yet. So, should you tell him you love him? He probably didn't even realize he said it, what if he didn't mean to say it? 

As you start some coffee, you try not to overthink it. The shock ebbs away as you make toast, just something to temporarily satiate your hunger; you'll just have to see what happens when he wakes up. But as you retrieve your toast and sit down to eat it dry with your black coffee, your mind will not settle.

It feels too early in the relationship, to feel this way. You definitely like him a whole lot, but even that doesn't sum up how you feel about him. 

He makes you feel safe when he holds you. He makes you feel accomplished when he praises your work, buying a copy of Hypnotik just to see your photography. He makes you feel beautiful, every time you catch him staring at you, wonder in his eyes. Even when the two of you are just hanging out, like when he's writing music and you're sitting next to him, listening to him hum the same line over and over, it feels wonderful. Just having him nearby makes you feel at peace, and your usual frustration and general grouchiness fades away. 

Maybe it's not too soon. Maybe this is one instance of a couple skipping over the awkward shit; you're both grown adults with at least a few relationships under your respective belts. Maybe this is happening naturally, and the fact that it came about sooner rather than later is actually a good thing. Dan definitely doesn't hide what he's feeling, at least not on purpose. You've seen him happy and sad, angry and calm, giddy and bored. He's seen you in these same ways, too, and he's still around.

You sit at his kitchen table in silence, watching the meager morning light grow more robust, until it fills the house. A strip of it is coming in across the table, making you feel warm all over as you sit in it. Just like how you feel when Dan has you in his arms, or on his lap, or when he lays his head in your lap while the two of you watch some awful made-for-TV movie.

After awhile, when the birds are starting to chirp and drive you a little crazy, you hear the shower running. You're not sure when Dan got up, as you had been pretty deeply invested in puzzling out how you feel about him saying he loves you. It's a bit of a surprise when the digital clock over the stove reads ‘7:45’, meaning you've been staring off into space for at least an hour. 

The sound of a hair dryer blowing shakes you out of another stupor and you realize you must be a little sleep-hungover or something, you're rarely this spacey. But you get up, pouring out the rest of your (now cold) coffee and finishing off the toast. You wish you hadn't spaced out so bad so you could get a big breakfast ready for Dan, but his fridge reveals only three eggs, a half-quart of milk that's probably about to expire, and some strawberries. There’s some leftover Thai food, and some other bits and pieces, but nothing suitable for breakfast. 

You remember seeing a box of pancake mix, so you get that out with the milk; a quick, tentative sniff tells you that it’s good enough to cook with. You decide to add the strawberries, so after mixing up the pancake batter, you start chopping up the strawberries over the sink. 

As you're doing this, Dan comes ambling in. His hair is still a mess, blown around by the hair dryer. He's wearing nothing but boxers and an old tshirt that's a little big on him. He makes his way over to you, hugging you from behind, planting a kiss on the back of your neck. “’Morning, beautiful.”

You set the paring knife down to turn and embrace him fully. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

“I've never slept better,” he says, with only a hint of hyperbole. “What’re you doing?”

“Making breakfast. You like pancakes, right?”

Dan picks up one of the uncut strawberries and bites into it. “I fuckin’ love pancakes.”

Dan helps you cut up the rest of the strawberries, pulling the leaves from them and handing them to you to slice up. “What are the strawberries for?”

“You don't have any maple syrup, so I'm gonna make some strawberry syrup.”

You walk Dan through the whole process; chopping up the strawberries, putting them in a pot with sugar and water and boiling it, smushing up the strawberry chunks for a smoother syrup. It's perfectly domestic and fun, and he's very enthusiastic about learning to cook, even if you don't know all that much about cooking. 

“I only know a few recipes, and m only good at Italian food,” you tell him as he stirs the syrup.

“That's more than I know how to make. I can make grilled cheese, mac and cheese from the box… anything that comes in a box, actually. As long as it comes with directions.” 

The pancakes end up tasting amazing, especially according to Dan, who upon having a bite reacts as though he's never had pancakes before. “Holy shit, these are really good, babe.”

You laugh from behind your second mug of coffee, this time with sugar to improve the taste. “Well, you helped. It wasn't just me who made them.”

He just smiles as he keeps eating, so you're content to leave it at that. You decide to let the moment from earlier in the morning slide; he was practically asleep when he said it, so he probably didn't mean to say it out loud. Even as you replay that scene in your head, recalling his voice as he said it, it sends that excited flutter blossoming through you like ink in water. 

As he shamelessly runs his finger over his plate to get the last bits of strawberry syrup, you can't deny it. You love him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut! :0 how'd i do with the sexytime?
> 
> Billy's plan will start unfolding soon. Also, i might be taking a small break from this to write a oneshot that has been stuck in my head for like two weeks. But i will come back soon to keep working on this, i promise ♡


	7. Finding Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary Delvue is plotting, and Dan has something important to tell you.

Mary Delvue is not a stupid woman. She will openly admit that just about every other thing people say about her is true; a gold digger, a conniving bitch. Her paintings are hardly thought-provoking. She knows how to make something shocking, and how to market it, and that's all she really needs to know. She makes sure her current husband can take care of everyday expenditures, while she paints things that'll make people uneasy. She knows who she is, and what she is, but she definitely isn't stupid. 

She is currently sitting on the veranda, wearing a white maxi dress and a sun hat, sipping a mojito, looking at her laptop. This guy Billy told her about, Dan Avidan, is quite a character. She can't deny he is handsome, though he could do with a haircut. He is mildly famous, which is appealing. But it's not the kind of fame she's used to; he's one of these new Youtubers. His show about video games doesn't capture her attention, and his band is immature and classless. Though her investigation has brought up his past work in music, and she likes that quite a lot more than what he is currently doing. She can't deny he has a lovely voice. 

Just then, her husband, Henry, walks out with his own laptop and a big pile of paperwork. Mary doesn't love him, at all. She tolerates him. He is not an attractive man by any means; he is constantly slouching and frowning, and he has a mean, pinched face. He is a means to an end, and once he catches on to her, she'll find some other rich bastard to marry. 

As it is, Mary puts on her best smile as Henry sits down at the patio table. “Hello, dearest. How was work?”

Henry regards her disdainfully as he opens his laptop. “Spare me your small talk, Mary, I know what you're going to ask.”

Mary scoffs, though she's hardly affronted. As long as he got the information she needs, she's satisfied. “You looked into him, then? Avidan?”

“Yes,” Henry says. “Remind me why you needed me to look this guy up?”

“I told you already,” Mary says apathetically, stirring her mojito. “Billy Upchurch commissioned me again, and I need a new model. Billy told me about this Avidan fellow, and he intrigues me. Is it really too much to ask that you look him up, just to make sure he's not a drug dealer or something?”

Henry sighs with agitation, and abandons his laptop to leaf through the paperwork. “I've got his home loan, background check, credit history, taxes, and some other bits and pieces. From what I've gathered, he works for a Youtube channel. Two, in fact. He makes pretty decent money with that. Has a one bedroom house in Glendale. Recently paid off a Nissan Murano. Credit score is good. No arrest record. Seems like a decent guy.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “That’s all well and good, but I was hoping for more of a summation of his character.”

“When people are required to put their personality in paperwork, I'll be able to access that information. As it is, I cannot ascertain his character from federal taxes and public records.”

“Some help you are,” Mary pouts. “If I bring him to the studio to paint and he turns out to be a horrible person, it'll be your fault. Honestly, Henry, I only asked you to look into him! I don't know why you have to make this so difficult.”

Henry goes back to the laptop, unaffected by Mary and her agitation. “Lucky for you, I contacted former employers. He worked at Maker Studio a few years ago, and they told me he was a great employee, a hard worker, got along great with everyone. He had been fired from a job a good while ago for failing a drug screen, but other than that he's got a pretty clean record. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

Dissatisfied with this knowledge, Mary sips her mojito and looks out into the garden, her mind sorting through all this information. Credit reports and former employers doesn't really tell her what she needs to know, but that bit about failing a drug screen might prove useful. She'll have to call in a few favors around town, try to get what she needs on her own. How very typical; it turns out Henry is not as useful in this situation as she had hoped. He's lucky he has plenty of money, or else she'd already be looking for a new husband. 

She gets out her phone and calls up her friend Gloria, who runs a bakery near Glendale. She picks up on the second ring, as usual. “Mary! How lovely to hear from you, I haven't had the pleasure since your last party.”

Mary smirks at the memory of her last soiree, getting a few new topiary bushes as an excuse to have wine in the early afternoon. “Hello, Gloria. I miss you terribly. How is the bakery?”

“It’s doing well, those rose-flavored pastries are selling faster than we can make them. I can't thank you enough for suggesting that.”

“Wonderful,” Mary says, grabbing onto Gloria’s gratitude immediately. “Actually, I do have a favor to ask, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind at all,” Gloria says, cheerful as ever. “What do you need?”

“There’s this guy I'm thinking about hiring to model for me, and I need someone to look into him to get an evaluation of his character. Henry is no help, of course.” She glares at Henry as she says this, but he is as unaffected as ever. 

“Oh, how intriguing. Tell me all about him.”

Mary spends the next twenty minutes telling Gloria all about this Dan Avidan, including the fact that tax records show his place of business isn't too far from her bakery. Once that's done, and Gloria promises to report back, Mary ends the call as quick as she can while still being polite. She cannot stand overly cheerful people for very long. 

Once she hangs up, she looks over at her husband. “My goodness, that was so hard,” she says dryly.

“If I didn't know any better,” Henry says, not looking away from his laptop, “I'd say there was something suspicious going on here.”

Mary gasps lightly, fluttering her hand daintily over her heart. “What a horrible thing to say! I told you, I just want to make sure he's not an unsavory type. Is that so wrong, Henry? That I want to make sure he's not a criminal or something?”

Henry doesn't respond, so Mary leans back in her chair and finishes off her mojito with a smug grin. She does love causing a little bit of trouble now and then, it breaks the monotony very nicely. 

\--------------------

Every day that goes by makes you hate your job just a little bit more. Before you met Dan, you were satisfied with it. But now, he has brought so much positivity into your life and you've realized how stifling it is to work here. Billy doesn't give you any input at all in the magazine, even though you've worked here for over a year. You'll bring in photos of very impressive art from artists no one has heard of yet, and submit them in the hopes he'll put them in the magazine, but he always shoots you down. It's depressing, especially when you think of the artists behind the work you photograph. 

The way they light up when you tell them you're from an art magazine and want to take photos to possibly publish… if you could just get Billy to bend a little, you wouldn't have to think of their disappointment when their work doesn't go in the next issue. You've even suggested a page or two in the back of the magazine featuring new artists, but Billy isn't having it. That isn't even to mention that, in order to make any decent money at all, most of your free time has to go into photographing art shows and galleries.

Currently, you are sitting at your desk, editing pages, glaring disdainfully at the images of hyperrealism and meaningless abstracts. The artists behind these pieces are nice enough, and they believe in their work, but they're regulars in Hypnotik. Every time one of Billy’s favorites makes something new, he has it in the next issue without fail. There's nothing wrong with their work, but you’re so tired of seeing the same thing every day. 

As you enter text written by one of the equally jaded writers, there’s a tapping sound and you look up to see Angela at the entrance to your cubicle with a bag of chips. “Hey, sunshine.”

You smile wearily. “Angela, thank God. Distract me before I deface this whole issue.”

Angela walks in, offering some of her chips to you as she sits on your desk. “I'm not gonna stop you, you know that.”

You shove chips in your mouth, only just now remembering how hungry you are, even though it's a good three hours until lunch. “I can't stand this shit much longer. What's the point of making new issues when Billy just rotates through the same artists?”

“You are way too invested in this shit rag,” Angela says. “You need some work on the side. Aren't you doing a photoshoot for Delvue?”

You roll your eyes. “God, don't remind me. She emailed me about it, I guess she's still finishing some pieces and she'll get ahold of me when it’s all ready.”

Angela hums thoughtfully, then checks the time on her phone. “Listen, I know that man of yours usually takes you to lunch, but do you wanna bail out for a bit, get something to eat with me?”

While you would love to get out of the office, you really don't want to do anything that could get you into trouble with Billy. Since you started dating Dan a few months ago, you've avoided confrontation with Billy like the plague. The fact that he has been getting more handsy with you makes you wary of doing anything that could get you in his office again. However, if you have to spend one more minute looking at these pages and thinking about all the wasted opportunities, you might throw your laptop out the nearest window. 

“…Yeah, alright. Some fresh air will do me good,” you say, closing your laptop and gathering up your purse, the jacket you still haven't given back to Dan, and your camera. 

“Atta girl,” Angela says with a wily smile. 

You shrug onto the jacket, even though it’s getting too warm outside to wear any kind of jacket, especially one made of leather. But you love wearing it, since it keeps Dan close when he’s not around. With how busy he's been lately, you'll gladly sweat a little bit and keep wearing it. 

Angela takes you to her regular place, a bakery down the street from the office, Glorious Bakery. “I need something sweet,” she says. 

“No complaints here,” you reply. “I think this is where Dan got those rose donuts.”

“Ooh, I wonder if they have any. They're always sold out when I come in.”

The two of you walk in to Glorious, and Angela wastes no time. She heads right up to the counter, looking through the glass at the pastries on their racks. You notice immediately that the space marked for the rose donuts is empty. “No luck this time,” you tell Angela.

“Well, shit. That sucks.”

A middle-aged woman with a pretty face walks up behind the counter, her bright smile almost painful to look at. “Good morning, ladies! What can I get for you?”

Angela glares openly at her. “How come you never have those rose donuts?”

“Ah, sorry,” the cheerful lady says. According to her colorful name tag, her name is Gloria. You assume she must be the owner. “They just keep selling out! If you have a few minutes to spare, I'm actually making a fresh batch right now. They should be ready in about ten minutes or so.”

“Outstanding,” Angela says, her mood instantly improving. She turns to you and says, “you don't mind waiting, do you?”

Though being gone from work makes you a bit nervous, you can't deny that you're not looking forward to going back. “Nah, I don't mind.”

The two of you sit at a table to wait, and Angela takes out her phone. “I swear, this guy I met the other night will not stop blowing me up.”

You grin as she deletes his texts. “Don't you ever go on second dates?”

“Of course I do. I just have high standards. This guy seemed nice, and he's cute as fuck, but he lives like a slob. While we were out, he would just throw his trash on the ground. Disgusting.”

“Geez, that sucks,” you say, scrunching your nose up. 

“Yeah, but he was good in bed. I might call him again, but he needs to stop sending me all these damn emojis.” Angela puts her phone down and looks at you, all business. “So, ___. What are you gonna do?”

You’re a little surprised by this question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re wasting your life at Hypnotik. You obviously hate it there. Didn't you say you wanted to open a studio?”

“Oh, well… um,” you say, uneasy. “I do want to open a studio, but I don't really have the money. I have some saved up, but I'm thinking I'm gonna have to use that money to get a new car.”

“That thing’s still giving you trouble? What's wrong with it?”

You shrug. “It has trouble starting, and it gets all rumbley when I drive it, especially after it rains.”

Angela thinks for a minute, humming under her breath. “I can take a look at it, if you want.”

“Really?” you say, surprised. “Do you know how to fix cars?”

Angela grins smugly. “A little. My dad works on cars all the time, ever since I was little I would watch him fix cars in the garage. He taught me a thing or two.”

Once Angela decides to take a look at your car later today, Gloria comes back behind the counter with a fresh batch of donuts. “Here we go, ladies!”

You and Angela get your donuts and pay at the register. You leave a hefty tip, because Gloria is so cheerful you feel like she deserves a little bit extra. As you and Angela walk out to eat in the car on the way back to the office, your phone goes off. From your lock screen, you see that Dan has sent you a photo.

You can't help the smile spreading over your face as you get into Angela’s car and open the message, and she certainly doesn't miss your giggles at the image. “Is that your man?”

You nod as you buckle your seat belt. “Look what he sent me.”

Angela looks at your phone and laughs uproariously at the photo Dan sent you; a selfie of him pulling a very unattractive face, holding up a half-finished Snapple. The text underneath reads ‘I fuckin love Snapple’. Angela starts driving, shaking her head in spite of the big grin on her face. “Man, why can't I find one like that? He's so funny.”

“He's more sweet than what you like,” you tell her. It's no secret that Angela doesn't like the poetic type.

“Well, no one’s perfect. I'm tellin’ you, ___, if he got a haircut and maybe a couple of tattoos, I would've beat you to the punch a long time ago.”

You send an equally unflattering photo back to him, crossing your eyes and making an ugly sneer. The old you would never have been able to send such a photo, especially to someone who gets to see you naked. But Dan makes it so easy for you to be yourself. You imagine he’s gone into quite a giggle fit over the selfie you just sent him, and you only wish you could be there with him to witness it. “I like him just the way he is,” you tell Angela.

“Yeah, you two are perfect for each other. He's a sweet guy, and you need someone who will be sweet with you. Most of the office is as invested in your relationship as they are for those reality TV couples,” Angela says. “It’s almost painful, how cute you two are together.”

The rest of the drive goes by with you imagining your coworkers gathering around the water cooler you don't even have at the office to discuss your relationship with Dan. A little part of you wishes they wouldn't, but you also suppose they can't help it. You've been single the entire time they've known you, and now you've been swept off your feet by a guy who regularly sneaks in to bring you lunch and give you kisses when neither of you think anyone is looking. 

Once you’re back at the office, you and Angela walk in together. She stops you before going into her own cubicle. “I'll take a look at your car later, during lunch, if that's alright.”

“That’s fine,” you say with a smile. “I can't thank you enough for looking at it, Angela. You're the best.”

Angela waves off your thanks. “Don’t worry about it. I'm happy to help.”

You walk away, heading towards your own cubicle, rushing past the door of Billy’s office. Once you're back at your desk, you take one look at your closed laptop before you go back to your phone, finding a response from Dan regarding the funny face you made in your photo. 

From Dan: soooo beautiful ♡♡♡

You laugh quietly, and resist the urge to keep texting him. Maybe Angela is right, and you should start putting more effort into getting your studio opened. It's been your dream ever since you decided to pursue photography as a career, and you've always had some excuse to keep it a far-off goal. Not having the money for it is usually what you tell yourself to keep from realizing your dream, and you're starting to think that you're just going to keep making excuses until the day you die. 

Dan sends another text message, just as you're about to get geared up to get back to work. 

From Dan: what would you like to have for lunch today? 

He's just too sweet. In the few months that you've been dating, he's been more of a giver than a taker. It makes you feel a bit bad sometimes, but he has assured you many times that he loves being able to provide for you.

To Dan: no preference. As long as I get to see you ♡

From Dan: AWW 

You giggle, and put your phone down. You really do need to get back to work. 

\----------------------

Dan gathers up the Thai food he ordered and is preparing to head upstairs to bring it to you, but he doesn’t get too far before Brian stops him. 

“Where are you headed?” Brian asks. 

“Oh, um…” Dan says, feeling a bit guilty that he's bailing on Brian to see you. He decides it’s probably best to be honest. “I'm gonna go have lunch with ___.”

Brian grins. “Oh, I see. The mysterious ___. I’d give you shit, but we've been working you pretty hard lately.”

Dan never knows how to react when his friends express concern for his work ethic, especially since they've all just accepted it for the most part. They'll intervene when they feel like they need to, but hearing the note of concern in Brian’s voice is still a little unsettling for him. He doesn't want anyone to worry about him, but he has so much to get done that he just doesn't have time to feel guilty. “I won't be gone too long, I'll just be upstairs.”

Brian turns to go back to arranging music, still grinning. “No problem. I'm just gonna work out the kinks in this, take your time.”

Dan makes his way upstairs, feeling excited to see you, but also a bit guilty about ditching Brian. As much as he loves you, his career is important to him. 

He's known he loves you for awhile now. Every time he looks at you, no matter what you’re doing, it breaks over him again. He especially likes watching you edit photos, because you frown seriously and mumble to yourself. It's very cute. But it’s not just that; it’s the way you look back at him, it's the way you hold him close. It's the way you regard him as something special, and the way you support his work, even though it keeps him so busy. 

Most of the problems from his last two relationships came down to him just not having enough time for it. The girlfriend would try to be understanding at first, but it would wear her down eventually. When the break up came, though it was painful for him, he could hardly fault her in both cases. ‘I feel like you just don't have enough time for me,’ they'd say. And he felt the same, that he didn't have time for a relationship, which was a painful pill to swallow. The hopeless romantic part of him holds out hope that he can find the balance between work and his love life, and when he's single he always thinks he could make it work. But then he gets involved with someone and his schedule seems much more imposing than when he's sitting alone in his house every night. 

He sneaks easily into your office, still putting on the act even though just about everyone in here knows he's coming in around lunch time. The only person in this office that truly makes him nervous is your boss, Billy. He's all bark and no bite, as you've said, but Dan doesn't want to get you into any trouble.

He passes by Angela, who is putting money into an outdated vending machine. She is a hard one to figure out; she reminds Dan a lot of a cat. It seems, to him, that she merely tolerates him on most days. She looks up as she selects a candy bar, letting it fall with a loud THUNK as she watches him approach. “Hey, lover-boy.”

“Hello,” he says happily. “How are things in the world of contemporary art?”

“Full of shit, just like everything else,” Angela says as she retrieves her snack. “How are things in the world of ‘singing about dicks’?”

Dan is used to her abrasive attitude, so he takes it in his stride. “Very well, thank you. We're almost done with our next album, it's very exciting.”

“Awesome,” she says flatly around a mouthful of chocolate. “Listen, I'm gonna take a look at ___’s car during our lunch break, you don't mind, do you?”

Dan frowns. “No, not at all. I told her I'd help her out if she needed to take it to a shop, though.”

“Ah, you know how she is. She doesn't want to ask for help, she thinks she has to do everything on her own.”

Dan and Angela start making their way to your cubicle, as Dan continues to frown. “I'm her boyfriend, what good am I if I can't help her with stuff like this?”

Angela pats him roughly on the arm. “Don't worry about it too much, Danny-boy. She's just gotten too used to being alone, you know? You help her in a lot of other ways, believe me.”

Dan stops suddenly. “Really? Like, how?”

“She’s less of a grouch, that's for sure. She’s started seeing herself as worthy of better things. She's started to really open up, like you’re helping her to see the good in people again. I may be hard on you, but that's only because ___ is my friend and I only want what's best for her. If I didn't like you, or the effect you have on her, trust me. You would've known it by now.” She smiles at him then, genuinely, throwing him for a bit of a loop. 

Dan follows Angela the rest of the way to your cubicle, trying to puzzle through what she just said. He's had a positive impact on your life… That really makes him feel good. He wants you to be happy, and to know how wonderful you truly are. In getting to know you, he's found that you don't think too highly of yourself, and you’re constantly second-guessing everything. To hear that he's somehow helping you through that is an amazing feeling, that you might someday see yourself how he sees you. 

Accomplished. Talented. Hard-working. And so, so beautiful. Even when you don't mean to be. He loves seeing you all dressed up, but there's something about you in that Stryper shirt you picked up a few months ago, with ratty jeans and torn up sneakers, your hair tangled up, that he loves even more. There's something about the way you poke your tongue out while concentrating really hard on something that he finds almost unbearably cute. And when you cook for him, or even better, when you talk him into the two of you cooking together, it's such bliss.

He loves you, every facet of you. Even the parts that aren't as polished or graceful. In fact, he loves you even more for these things. He loves when you cuss like a sailor, when you sing poorly with the radio, when you can just give him one look and he's aching for you. He loves the physical aspects of the relationship, obviously, but not for any superficial reason. He loves being that close to you. You call him a rock star all the time, but when he's in bed with you, when your bare skin presses against his, when you rake your fingers gently down his back and pull carefully on his hair… he feels like he has fluorescence captured in his hand, and even though it burns, it feels so wonderful. 

He and Angela arrive at your cubicle, and he nearly blushes at the sight of you hunched over, biting your lip as you work. You look so invested in what you're doing, even though you have made it clear that you don't like your job that much, that he only respects you more. You put so much effort into this, he can only imagine what you'd do with something you're actually passionate about. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, and you look up, a bit startled since you were concentrating so hard. The way you light up upon seeing him gives him the same feeling as when he skips a step when going down stairs.

“Hey! Is it lunch time already? What did you bring?” You’re already getting up out of your chair, and Angela easily steps aside so you can lean in to kiss Dan on the cheek.

“Thai food,” he says. “Is that alright?”

“Of course,” you say cheerfully as you grab your camera and his jacket, putting it on. “Let’s eat outside so Angela can look at my piece of shit car.”

The three of you head outside, and sit at one of the beat up picnic tables to eat. Dan tries to not get too flustered over you still wearing his old jacket; the thought behind it is not helping his current mood of overly romantic. As you eat, you tell him about the drudgery of your job. 

“I just wish Billy would give some of these artists a chance, you know? It's so hard to make a living doing art these days, but he just keeps featuring the same people. It is driving me nuts.”

Dan pouts sympathetically. “I'm sorry, baby girl. What about that idea you had, about a page in the back?”

Angela, who's already finished her lunch, scoffs. “Billy shot that down. Everyone thought it was a great idea, but he won't budge.”

“It really blows,” you sigh. “I don't know what else I can do.”

“Yeah, you do,” Angela says. Dan looks between you and her, a little lost. You catch his confused frown.

“Angela is trying to talk me into opening that studio.”

“Oh!” Dan says. “Yeah, why don't you do that? You've wanted to open a studio for awhile now, right?”

You try not to get too frustrated, and Dan knows that look, that posture. That ‘can we not talk about that right now’ attitude. He certainly doesn't want to make you upset, but he often wonders why you don't pursue your dream. “It’s not that simple. I need money to rent the space, I need clients, I need lighting and lenses and… I just don't have the money right now.”

While you and Angela change the subject to talk about some office drama, Dan sits there, frantically trying to think of a way to help you out without making it obvious that he's helping. You are proud, that's for sure, and Angela is right about you not being used to asking for help. It breaks his heart, because he knows how much you want this.

You love taking pictures. He has never seen you without your camera; you tell him that it’s a layover from when you did freelance work. You'd never know when you would stumble across something that you could photograph and sell to blogs or news outlets. It's not uncommon for you to stop suddenly while the two of you are out and just start snapping pictures. You definitely have the drive and the passion, you just need the confidence to start your own business. 

He believes in you, so much. You have such an eye for beautiful things, and you know how to capture that beauty in a way that constantly impresses him. Even when you take photos of skyscrapers and bridges, or landscapes, or some other mundane thing that he would pass by without a second thought, he's always blown away by how you can convey so much emotion, just in the way you frame a shot, or how you edit it. 

He'll think of something to boost your confidence. He knows he will. If he has to call in every favor, he will. He wants to succeed, not only because he loves you, but because you deserve to succeed. 

After the three of you finish eating, you all head over to your car. You hand the keys over to Angela, and she gets in and starts it. As she pops the hood and comes around the front, you turn to Dan. “I really think I should just get a new car. I'm so sick of worrying about this thing working.”

He definitely agrees. “I don't like worrying about you driving it, either. I hate the thought of you getting stranded somewhere. But that money you have saved up is for your studio, isn't it?”

You shrug apathetically. “Yeah, but I need a functioning car more than a studio. Besides, I don't know how to run a business. I don't want to open it up and end up going bankrupt, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” he says softly. “I bet you'd do just fine, though. I know it’s scary, but everything worth doing is scary.”

You're quiet for a moment, watching Angela open the throttle with a frown. Just as Dan is about to say something else, you turn and put your hand on his arm. “I'd rather not talk about it just now.”

“Oh, sure,” he says, immediately backing off of the subject. “No problem. Sorry.”

You smile to ease his worry that he might’ve stepped over some boundary. “It’s alright. I just don't want to worry about it right now. We can talk about it later.”

“Okay,” he says.

Angela sighs loudly and goes to shut the car off. “I don't know a whole lot about cars, but I think it might be a bad transmission.”

You groan loudly. “Those are expensive,” you whine.

“Yeah, that they are,” Angela says. “I could be wrong, though. You could take it to get a diagnostic done, it doesn't cost anything.”

“Damn it,” you grumble under your breath. 

Dan puts an arm around your shoulder as the three of you start heading back inside. “It’ll be alright, baby. You know I don't mind taking you to work, right?”

“I know,” you say. “I just… I kind of feel bad for being such an inconvenience.”

“Nonsense!” Dan says exuberantly. “It’s more time that I get to spend with you.”

As he walks up the stairs with you, letting Angela go ahead, he stops on his floor and turns to face you. You look so stressed, so he pulls you in for a hug. “We’ll figure something out. I really don't mind taking you to work, and if you need any help with anything, you know you just have to ask, right?”

You sigh, leaning in to him. “I know. I just don't want to be a bother.”

“You’re not bothering me by asking for help. I want to help! That's what I'm here for!” he says with a big smile, rubbing your back in an effort to be comforting. 

You lean back just enough to look up at him. “So, you're not in this for the sex?”

He shrugs. “That's just a nice bonus.”

“What about kisses?” you ask, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Are you here for kisses?”

To answer you, he gives you a quick peck on the bridge of your nose. “The kisses are very nice, I'll admit,” he says, laughing as you squeal and try half-heartedly to get away. “Accept my affection! Accept it!”

You break out into loud, borderline obnoxious laughter as he kisses you rapid-fire all over your face. “Stop, oh my god! You'll ruin my makeup!”

“I can't help it, you're too cute. I just wanna eat you up.” He plants another loud, over-acted kiss on top of your head, getting flyaway hair stuck to his lips but not really caring that much. 

“You can eat me up later tonight,” you say, your lips centimeters from his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I might,” he replies. The joke has faded away and now he's just looking down at you, unable to think of anything else but going down on you. Hearing you cry out in pleasure as he tries all of his techniques to see which you like best. 

You press your hips into his, looping your arms loosely around his shoulders. “Easy, tiger. You've still got work to do.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Like I've never had a boner at work before.”

You laugh quietly. “Well, that's a fun mental image.”

“Oh, you can laugh,” Dan says with mock seriousness, “but I take my work-boners very seriously. There’s a real art to it, I'll have you know.”

“Yes, because talking about eating out your girlfriend is true art.”

He grins, then redoubles his grip on you before lifting you up and spinning around on the spot. You cry out in surprise, giggling as he sets you back down. “You're a genius!” he says. “I'm gonna quit doing Game Grumps and NSP and all of that, and just do a stage show. Like the Vagina Monologs, except I talk about cunnilingus. Do you think it'll go over well?”

“Of course it will,” you say sarcastically. “People will love it. I'll get you a bunch of black turtle-necks and a douchey hat, that way you look the part.”

The two of you giggle at the thought of Dan doing pretentious performance art. He knows he has to get back to work, and so do you, but it's too hard to let go of you. He knows you’re going to keep stressing about your car, and you are feeling particularly jaded about your job these days. He wishes he could think of a simple solution that would fix all of your problems in an instant, just to keep you smiling. 

Just as he's about to start the painful process of saying goodbye, the door behind him opens and Brian walks out, stopping short at the sight of you and Dan hugging. “There you are,” he says. “I'm not interrupting, am I?”

Dan grins apologetically. “Hey, Bri. Sorry, me and ___ were having a blissful romantic moment.”

Brian stares you down, and you pull away from Dan to greet him properly. He says, “I was starting to think he was making you up.”

“Nah, I'm real. Nice to meet you,” you say, holding out your hand.

Brian shakes your hand, the intense look in his eye melting away a little bit. “Likewise. I gotta tell you, it's been nothing short of a blessing, you dating Dan. He's so happy lately, I almost can't stand to be around him.”

You laugh nervously and look over at Dan, who is blushing. He can't deny that you've had a positive impact in his life, he just didn't know it had gotten to a point where everyone knows it's because he's head over heels for you. 

Brian turns to Dan, the intensity back full-force. “You ready to get back at it? I finished composing that song, we just need to finish the lyrics.”

“Yeah,” Dan says. He runs his hand through his hair, wishing he could have just a few more minutes with you. 

“Alright,” Brian says. “I'm gonna go outside and call Rachel and Audrey real quick, I'll be right back.” He starts heading down the stairs, already dialing his wife. 

Dan turns to you with a slightly guilty look about him. “I guess I gotta go back to work.”

You close the small gap between you and him, wrapping your arms around his thin waist. “So do I. Such is life, I guess. You wanna cook dinner together?”

“Absolutely,” he says, already looking forward to it. He leans in to kiss you, this time letting the contact last. 

You pull back after a few seconds, because you both know that you'll stand here and just keep kissing like this if one of you doesn't make the effort to stop. “I'll text you later, then. I'll have to stop at the grocery store, so start thinking about what you wanna have.”

“Okay,” he says. He gives you one last kiss on the temple before letting you step out of his embrace. “Don’t get too worked up, alright? Everything is gonna be fine, you'll see.”

You start making your way to the stairs, lingering as you lean on the handrail. “If you say so. You have a good day, Danny.”

He will never get used to the pleasant flutter that blooms over him when you call him Danny. “I will, you do the same.”

The words are right on the tip of his tongue. He could just say it, right now. He keeps meaning to say it, he just can't make up his mind on when and how to say it. Should he make it a big, romantic gesture, or should he just blurt it out like he's been saying it for ages? Which would you like better? What if you aren't ready for that, what if you want things to stay simple and casual?

As he's standing there, puzzling through his indecision, you've already made it up the flight of stairs and you're almost to the door of your office. Something spurs him on all of a sudden, and he darts forward to the stairs. “___! Wait, um…”

You look down from the landing, clearly amused. “Yes, dear?”

The pet name gives him the final push he needs, even if you're just playing at being exasperated. He looks up at you, letting this feeling bubble up in him so much that he feels like he might float right up off the floor. “Love you.”

It’s out, he said it, and he watches as a look of mild surprise comes over your face. A big, unrestrained smile comes after. “Ah. I love you, too. I'll talk to you later.” And you turn to head into your office, a definite spring in your step. 

Dan stands there, feeling like he’s seen the sun for the first time in years. The stairwell is completely silent, but he can hear his pulse racing in his ear. He keeps playing it over and over, memorizing the tone of your voice. Your pleasant surprise, your outright giddiness, the way you perked up immediately, it all engulfs him and overtakes him, and he's more than happy to drown in it for just a moment. 

He finally said it, he told you he loves you, and you said it back! He wants to cheer and run laps around the building, chanting ‘She loves me, and I love her! We love each other!’ He almost wishes there was someone else here, someone that could appreciate how big this is for him. He especially wishes you were still here and not back at work so he could just kiss you all over. As it is, he resists the very strong urge to squeal loudly, and heads into his own office, trying to not act like anything has changed. His friends are great, and he cares about them very much, but they're like annoying siblings sometimes and he can only imagine how much relentless teasing they'll dish out. 

He sits at the couch where he and Brian were working earlier, and is content to just sit there, unable and unwilling to hide his bliss.

Meanwhile, an eavesdropping Brian is standing downstairs in the lobby, grinning from ear to ear, and gearing up to spill this juicy gossip to his wife. 

\---------------------

You walk back into your office like you’re in a dream. 

He said it with such emotion behind it, like a dam was breaking. Of course, since you overheard him say it while nodding off, you've known his feelings about you. But hearing him say it, intending you to actually hear it… Nothing compares. 

Dan is as honest and genuine as they come, he wears his heart on his sleeve. There was so much in those two words; the brief hesitation, the lilt in his voice, the way hope lit him up like a bonfire. 

You’re feeling unabashedly giddy about it, and you want to memorize everything about the moment. The tone of his voice, a bit shaky but full of conviction. His posture, leaning against the handrail like Gene Kelly about to break into some love song. His expression, especially his eyes, locked on you, a faint smile on his lips, the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks. God, the whole thing is almost too much for you to bear. 

You wish you could've made the romantic scene complete by running down the stairs and jumping into his arms to kiss him, long and deep, but of course your life is not An American In Paris. You have to get back to work, and so does he. 

Once you’re back at your desk and opening up your laptop again, you settle back in your chair. Dan is a real delight, and he's done so much for you already. You want to do something for him, something to show how much you appreciate him. While the sex is great and you suppose you could give him a blow job or something, you want to do something really memorable. 

As you get back to editing photos and fixing page layouts, you also get a notepad and start making a list for a romantic evening at home. You're gonna pull out all the stops and spoil him rotten. Because you love him, because he loves you. 

While you're writing out a grocery list, he texts you. You open it up to find a picture of him, glasses perched low on his nose, leaning his chin on his hand and smiling serenely at the camera. The text below says, “miss you already, pretty lady”

You bite your lip as you smile. You quickly snap a selfie to send back, along with a text. “miss you too ♡ btw, I'm thinking of breaking out my secret weapon tonight. You like chicken, right?”

He texts back very quickly. “yes, I love chicken. What are you planning?”

You shrug, even though he can't see it. “Don’t worry about it. It's a surprise!”

You put the phone down and go back to work. Throughout the rest of the day, you make notes whenever something pops into your head, and you're already planning on cutting out a little early. 

This is gonna be a night to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is gonna be another scene of sexual harassment with Billy next chapter, and this one is gonna be pretty intense. It won't get into anything more than groping, but it's not gonna be fun :(
> 
> In other news, i have decided not to be on tumblr for awhile (my url is dartformy_sweetheart if you were curious). Idk if many of you know me on tumblr, but i just wanted to let you know. The discourse is too much, man.


	8. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with Dan so far has been cozy and sweet. But it won't last forever.

You manage to cut out of work an hour early by powering through your work and getting everything done in record time. You only let Angela know you're leaving before clocking out and running out the door. 

Your car seems to understand that you have a lot of things to do in a short amount of time, so it starts on the first try and doesn't give you too much sass on the way to the grocery store. Once you're in the store, you grab a cart and put your list on the kid seat so you can't get distracted. 

Dan doesn't have much in his kitchen cabinets, so you don't make assumptions about what he already has. You grab some chicken breast, cream of chicken soup, rice, and some vegetables from the produce section. For dessert, you get ready-made shortcake and strawberries and some heavy cream. Just as you're about to head to the checkouts, you stop at a display of wine.

Dan does occasionally like to have a glass of wine with dinner. He can't have too much because of the alcohol, but one glass every now and then is alright. You don't know the intricacies of what wine would go well with chicken, but you know he likes chardonnay, so you grab a bottle of that. 

Once you've paid, you high-tail it to his house. It takes some doing to get his spare key out from under the terra cotta pot of wilting flowers while your hands are full of bags from the store, but you manage it. You fumble with the key at the door in your excitement, but you get it unlocked and the key back in its hiding place. 

Inside, you go into the kitchen and start sorting through the groceries, and looking for all the hardware. For one heart-stopping moment, you think that maybe Dan doesn't have a hand mixer. You could just use a whisk, but making whipped cream without a mixer will take up precious time. Thankfully, you find a stand mixer crammed in the back of his pantry. By the look of it, he's never even used it. 

You get the chicken cooking in a skillet and the rice in a pot; while that's going, you quickly run to his bedroom. Since you've made a habit of staying the night, you have a few articles of clothing squirreled away in his dresser. You get changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top, tossing your work clothes into Dan’s laundry basket before going back into the kitchen. 

The chicken is coming along alright. You flip each piece to cook the other side, then stir the rice, and after that you get started on the whipped cream. You're so excited for Dan to get home so you can pamper him, you can't stop grinning. Even with your shitty job and your car problems and worrying about getting on Billy’s bad side again, you're starting to think you're finally getting to experience real happiness. It's almost frightening, how happy Dan makes you feel. It's like your whole life has been grey, overcast skies in winter, and meeting Dan was like the first day of spring. That's partly why you're doing this, to show him how much you appreciate and love him, as well as hopefully give back some of the warmth he has shared with you in these past few months. 

Once the whipped cream is done, you stash it in the fridge and head into the living room. You look through his collection of movies, hoping to find something romantic to watch, but then, he isn't really a big fan of sappy movies. You do find a copy of The Last Unicorn, a movie that he's loved since childhood but you've never seen. You put this in his DVD player, letting it sit at the menu. You want to see this movie with him, letting his enthusiasm for it color your perception of it. There's really nothing like experiencing something though the eyes of someone you love. 

After getting dinner planned, you’re really just flying by the seat of your pants and coming up with stuff as you go. You really want to blow him away and treat him to a great night, but of course you're starting to overthink it and worry that you might be going overboard. You know he'll be happy with dinner, and getting to sit and watch a movie with you. But it just doesn't feel like enough. Maybe if you had time, you could run home and find some sexier clothes, but you don't want to run the risk of him getting home before you get back. You'll just have to work with what you have here. 

You dim the lights in the living room and go back to the kitchen, where your bag is sitting on the counter next to the plastic grocery bags. You get your phone out, unsurprised to see a text from Dan waiting for you. 

From Dan: we are wrapping it up, I'll be heading home in about half an hour

You text back a quick ‘okay I'm waiting at your place, hope you're hungry!’ and start getting everything ready. You set the table, wishing he had some candles or something to complete the romantic scene, but as it is, you're satisfied.

You spend the next forty-five minutes finishing dinner, cleaning up the kitchen, and going around his house and tidying up. Dan isn't messy by any means, but with him being so busy, mundane chores have fallen to the wayside. You put his laundry hamper in the back room by the washing machine, picking up the dirty clothes off the floor as you go. You get clean towels out of the closet in the hall, putting them in the bathroom, hoping that maybe the two of you can have a bath together. His bed is already made, but you smooth down the covers and fluff up the pillows anyway. 

Finally, after checking the time and realizing he'll be home any minute now, you get the chicken and rice plated, pouring the cream of chicken soup over it. You pour out two glasses of wine, struggling only a little bit with the cork. It's very serendipitous that Dan has some grapes in the fridge; you drop a couple in each glass to chill the wine.

As you stand back to admire the scene, you hear a car pull up outside. Running to the living room and looking out the window, you see Dan pulling into the driveway and into the attached garage. You stop as you run by the bathroom to check your reflection, attempting to tame your hair a bit. Thankfully, your makeup has held up pretty well. You open the door to the garage just as Dan shuts off the engine to his car and gets out. 

He spots you standing in the doorway and grins lazily. “Hey, pretty lady.”

You try not to let his flattery get you off track. “Hey, how was work? Did you get a lot done?”

He gets into the back seat to grab his backpack, hefting it onto his shoulder as though it weighs a thousand pounds. “Yeah, I did. Finally got that song to work, the one that's been giving us trouble for the past couple of weeks.”

“That's awesome!” you say. As he approaches, you take his backpack from him. It is quite heavy. He makes to protest but you easily shush him. “Come on, I made dinner. And then I thought we could watch a movie, maybe take a bath later?”

He follows you inside, stopping to take in the scene laid out before him. “Wow, you really didn't hold back.”

You just smile sheepishly as you pull out a chair. “I couldn't help it. You've been working so hard lately, I wanted to really treat you good.”

He eases himself down into the offered chair, staring at the food on his plate. “You always treat me good,” he says. 

You lean down to kiss the top of his head. “I'm gonna put this away, I'll be right back. You go ahead and start eating, I made plenty.”

After stashing his backpack in his room, you hurry back to the kitchen. Predictably, he hasn't started eating yet, just sitting there waiting for you. Once you get yourself seated, you wave your hands in a ‘go on!’ gesture. “Eat up! I wanna know if you like it.”

He laughs quietly as he shoves a fork into the chicken and rice, stuffing it into his mouth with no hesitation. After a second, he lights up, and just manages to swallow before saying, “this is delicious!”

You don't even try to hide your smug grin. “Thanks. This is my favorite comfort food, though it's best when it's cold out. There's dessert, too, so leave room for that.”

He's barely listening, too occupied with eating. Judging by how he eagerly and shamelessly shovels the food in his mouth, it must've been one of those days where he didn't really have time to stop and eat. He didn't really eat much at lunch, anyway, so he must be absolutely starving. 

You eat much more slowly, content to just watch him slowly unwind and let the stress of the day melt away from him. The tight expression on his face gives way to an easy, sleepy smile and his posture goes from stiff to slouched by the time he's cleared his plate. He leans back in his chair with a sigh, laying a hand over his belly. The image of him looking so content and relaxed, after coming home looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, is not something you will forget very easily. 

Before he can even think of doing it himself, you get up and grab his empty plate while he's distracted with taking a sip of wine. He immediately makes to protest, but you're not having it. “Seconds? Or are you ready for dessert? We're having strawberry shortcake.”

He is a little bewildered for a second, but gets his bearings as you wait patiently. He says, “Oh, uh. Dessert sounds nice.”

“You got it. You wanna have it in the living room while we watch the movie?”

As it turns out, watching this movie with Dan was an amazing idea. Upon venturing out into the living room and seeing the menu for The Last Unicorn on the screen, he lets out what you would only describe as a shriek of happiness. Amused, you meet him at the couch with two bowls of strawberry shortcake. His has more strawberries, while you might've gone a little overboard on the whipped cream for yours. Dan doesn't have quite as much as a sweet tooth as you do, but you know he won't judge you for it. 

You make a valiant effort to watch the movie, but once you've set aside your empty bowl, you turn your attention to Dan. He's tucked into the side of the couch, leaning against the arm with his long legs underneath him. There's so much delight and wonder in his eyes as he watches the movie, even though he's undoubtedly seen it a hundred times. You press into his side, reaching up to lazily play with his hair. You don't want to distract him from the movie, but you can't help yourself. 

As the unicorn becomes Lady Amalthea and Dan mumbles something about her being “so pretty,” you giggle and lean in to kiss along his stubbley jawline. He's so cute, especially in moments like this where he is totally enraptured by something. He still has that childlike ability to give in fully to something magical and otherworldly, even if it is impractical and obviously fiction. 

By the time the movie is over, Dan is smiling serenely with his arm loosely around your waist, while you lay your head against his shoulder. While you didn't pay attention to the whole movie, you did enjoy it, and you definitely enjoyed seeing it with him. Once the credits start to roll, you get up to turn off the DVD player. Dan lets out a whine to protest your absence, so you turn on your feet and lean down, holding his face between both hands. 

The look he was giving the movie is nothing compared to how he looks at you. His sleepy, half-lidded eyes seem to glow with love for you, despite their rich, dark brown color. His lips turn up slightly at the corners in a blissful smile. You close the meager distance and kiss those lips, always enjoying the feeling of his against yours. You've shared many kisses, some sweet and some quick, some that burn like hard liquor and that make you just as lightheaded. This is one of those lazy, slow, pliable kisses. Where the both of you are a bit more sloppy, where you want to just drift along the lines of his body and find some new spot that needs attention, and he breathes new life into you with every little moan and whimper. He is absolutely melting in your hands and completely content with it, trusting you to put him back together when the two of you come back to reality. 

You pull away, only putting a few centimeters between you and him. His eyes flutter open and he looks at you, still grinning, and he lifts a hand to rest at the back of your head. “Love you,” he says, his voice cracking a little bit. 

You'll never get tired of hearing him say it. It's like the first breath of fresh air after years of being alone in a tiny, dark room, all alone. While he flexes his fingers gently in your hair, a slight blush blooming over his face, you brush your fingers over his cheekbones and revel in the simple blessing of being surrounded by him. “Love you, too.”

The two of you sit there for a few moments, but your legs are starting to hurt from crouching in front of him, so eventually you have to stand up. He lets his hands fall away from you and leans back into the cushions of the couch, shamelessly watching you walk over to the TV to turn everything off. You could play it up and bend over with the express purpose of really giving him something to stare at, but you still have things planned, and you don't want to get him too aroused. “Wanna take a bath with me?”

He is still lost in a warm cloud of lazy bliss, but he has the wherewithal to nod slowly. You make your way back to the couch, where he is currently trying to untangle his long legs and stretching his back out. He manages to get on his feet, wobbling only a little before you reach out to hold him steady, not hiding your amused exasperation. “How did you get by when you were single?”

“I have no idea,” he admits. 

Once you're both in the bathroom, he sits on the closed toilet seat while you start drawing the bath. You pick out some bubble bath that he has stashed away from some promotional video he shot for NSP in this very bathtub; it smells like lavender and cedar. The scent fills the bathroom quickly, making you feel relaxed and, by the look of it, making Dan nod off where he sits. 

While you wait for the tub to fill, you kneel in front of him and gently pull his tshirt off of him. He lets you do it, only having the energy to lift his arms and letting them flop back down to his sides once you've gotten the shirt off. 

Getting him out of his jeans requires him to stand up, and as you start pulling him onto his feet he whines loudly, making you laugh. “Oh my god, Dan. You poor thing.”

“I don't wanna stand up, I don't wanna move,” he groans.

You giggle at his antics, even as he gets out of his jeans and boxers on his own. Seeing him stark naked like this, with no sexual undertones, is a sort of intimacy you hadn’t really expected. You make to get out of your own clothes, but Dan stops you by taking your shirt off for you, like you did with him. 

He certainly doesn't have the brain power to tackle your bra, so you get out of that yourself. As you gather up the clothes you've both shed and lay them on the counter, Dan is already climbing into the bath, despite it not being full yet. You take the time to set the towels by the tub and grab his shampoo and body wash.

You get in behind him after the tub has had a chance to fill up and you've shut the water off. You grab a plastic cup, usually kept by the sink, and start pouring the warm water over his hair, keeping his head tilted back. He sighs blissfully as you run your fingers through his hair, working the water though it. The stress of the day is slowly rolling off of both of you, melting away into the warm water, hidden under piles of fluffy, white bubbles. You are well aware of how much Dan loves having his hair played with; it’s one guaranteed way to get him to relax.

You get a small dollop of shampoo in the palm of your hand and start working that through his hair, carefully pressing your fingertips into his scalp and doing your best to keep the suds off his face. He is leaning more heavily on you as each second goes by, so you make quick work of rinsing the shampoo out. Once that's done, he goes totally limp, his head against your shoulder, letting out a little satisfied sound as you hold on to him. You kiss his forehead, your eyes fluttering closed as you press your lips to his warm, wet skin. His hand finds your knee and he gently strokes the skin with his thumb, in slow, half-thought movements. 

The two of you sit in the bath for a long time, in complete silence. The bubbles have all dissolved, the water is getting cooler by the minute, but you could not be bothered to get out just yet. You look down at Dan, who is so relaxed he's nearly asleep already. There are wet tendrils of curly hair sticking to his face, so you move them to the side, letting your touch linger at the side of his face. He opens his eyes a tiny bit, a lazy smile growing on his lips. 

It's hard to believe that it’s only been a few months. It feels like it’s always been this way, that he's always been here. You definitely remember how it was before, but it feels like a different life. It's almost scary, how happy you are with him. 

Eventually, Dan manages to sit up properly, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. “I think I'm gonna fall asleep.”

“I think you are, too,” you tell him. You can't bare to lose contact, so you let your hand rest at the nape of his neck. “You wanna get ready for bed?”

“It’s a little early,” he mumbles as he runs his wet hands over his face in an attempt to wake up. 

“Yeah, but you're exhausted. You should get caught up on sleep, you've got your tour coming up.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye; the tour has been looming over the both of you. As proud as you are, and undeniably happy for him, you can't deny that you're not looking forward to spending so much time apart. Especially not after such a revelation in your relationship with him. But you can't keep him to yourself forever. He loves you, that much is obvious, but he loves performing, too. 

You lean forward, closing the distance, shifting the water as you go. You kiss him on the cheek, smiling as he leans into it. “My rock star. So proud of you.”

“Stop,” he says. You can hear the bashful smile in his voice. 

“Never,” you shoot back. “You’re gonna go out there and live your dreams, and I'll wait here for you. I'll miss you a lot while you're gone, but I can tell how important this is to you. And I love you, I love seeing you happy. I love seeing you do what you love.”

He bites his lip in an attempt to hide his goofy smile. He stares resolutely at the water, running his fingers through it. “How are you so perfect?” he asks, his voice hushed. 

You hear the pain hidden in that question. The past relationships that fell apart because he's so dedicated to his passion. He's only told you bits and pieces about prior girlfriends, but you can deduce that they dumped him due to his busy schedule. You certainly wish you could have him all to yourself like this all the time, but he would be miserable if he wasn’t doing music. 

You lay your head against his shoulder, his wet hair falling in your face. “I'm not perfect, honey. You just bring out the best in me.”

This is usually when he would diffuse the situation with a joke, but this time he stays quiet. His expression is one of pleasant contemplation, like he's thinking of something that makes him very happy. He wraps his arms around you, easily bringing you around from his side to his lap in the water. 

\--------------------

The next morning comes and Dan wakes up, curled up on his side, slightly confused on several details. He vaguely remembers blow drying his hair before bed while you toweled off, and he remembers you leading him to the bedroom. Thank god for that, because he definitely remembers being so exhausted that your hand in his was the only tether he had to the waking world. 

He looks around the bedroom, which is barely lit, with the blackout curtains blocking most of the daylight. He has no idea what time it is, and for a moment he panics. What does he need to get done today? Did he sleep through something important? Someone would've called, or at least sent a text, right? He rolls over, reaching very ungracefully for his phone, which is charging on the bedside table. 

No messages, no calls, no nothing. The alarm isn't even on. According to his phone, it's half past noon.

He struggles into a sitting position, tearing himself away from the blissful comfort of his bed. He does not want to get up, but he knows if he doesn't get out of this bed right now, he'll just drift off again and sleep through the whole day. As wonderful as it sounds to just give in and sleep, he knows he can't. There's no time. He has stuff to do, he always has something going on. It is not possible that he has an actual entire day to himself. 

After stumbling out of bed and making the easy decision to forgo pants and just meander around his house in his boxers, he makes his way out of the bedroom and toward the living room. He wonders where you went, though it is possible you left earlier and let him sleep in. The idea that you might've left already makes him sad, but it's short-lived. 

As he shuffles into the living room, he finds you sitting on the couch, your camera on the coffee table, your laptop open in your lap, some cooking show playing on low volume on the television. You look up as he walks in, and you immediately dissolve into giggles at the sight of him. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Dan makes his way to the couch, flopping down next to you. “Hey. I was worried for a second that you might've gone home.”

“Nah,” you say offhandedly as you try to tame his bedhead. “I finished your laundry.”

He slumps against you, nuzzling into your side. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Don't worry about it,” you say pleasantly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh huh,” he says. “I could’ve slept longer, but I think… Did I forget anything today? I feel like I should've been doing something today.”

You give up on his hair, instead taking his hand and kissing it along his knuckles. “You have today off. I had your assistant clear the day for you so you could relax. Didn't I tell you?”

“You might've,” Dan admits. “I don't think I remember how to have a day off, if I'm totally honest.”

“Don't worry,” you say softly, “I'll remind you.”

As it turns out, he does have some household chores that need done. You try and talk him out of it at first, but after an hour of just vegging out on his couch, he's already feeling antsy. 

You follow him out to the garage around two in the afternoon, after he has gotten into actual clothes and put his hair back in a loose ponytail. “Are you sure you have to clean the gutters today? Can't you just, like… pay someone to do it?”

“I could,” he muses while moving boxes out of the way, so he can get at the ladder by the wall. “But I have the time to do it now, and it needs to get done, so I might as well just do it. I need to get it done anyway so I can give Brian his ladder back.”

You fret from the sidelines, twisting your fingers around each other. “What if you fall off?”

He just manages to get the ladder out from behind a stack of large plastic bins full of old NSP props. “Aw, it'll be fine, ___. You can hold the ladder for me.”

Doing these mundane chores really help to ground him. His life is hectic, always moving at a frantic pace, so it's nice to have something to do that is slow and methodical and just… meaningless work. And it really does need to get done. 

With the ladder firmly in place, and you standing by to hold it, Dan goes up without incident and uses an old screwdriver to shovel out leaves and twigs from the gutter. The height doesn't really bother him; while taking a tumble would suck, it wouldn't be disastrous, he's only a few feet off the ground. But as he watches the remains of an abandoned bird nest fall into the wilting juniper bushes, he catches your eye. 

You're holding the ladder in a death grip, your eyes are wide with fear, and him turning to look down at you only seems to make you more nervous. He tries to reassure you. “Babe, it's fine, I promise. I'm not gonna fall.”

You visibly relax, only a little bit, as Dan grins down at you. “If you fall off this god-forsaken ladder, I promise you I will pass out, like, immediately,” you tell him, deadly serious.

He turns back to the gutters, dislodging several clumps of dead leaves. Before long, he's trying to reach as far as he can to his right, leaning into the empty space. You continue to fret from the ground. “Dan, get back down here and we'll move the ladder. You are making me so nervous. Holy shit.”

“Alright, alright. I'm coming down.”

It doesn't take very long to finish the gutters, mostly because Dan tries to hurry through it for your sake. Once he's done, and the ladder is laying harmlessly on the ground, you relax quite a bit. “I'll help you pick all this stuff up,” you tell him as he goes to put up the screwdriver.

“Well, I figured we could get the ladder back to Brian, maybe stop somewhere for a late lunch before we do that.”

“That sounds nice,” you say. You pick up the ladder and get it folded up while Dan moves the back seat down in his car. 

On the drive over to Brian’s place, he tries to think of what other stuff he needs to get done. Hopefully nothing else that requires a ladder, if only because it makes you so nervous. He really wants to get new blinds put up in the kitchen, and the hallway light burned out nearly a month ago. He keeps meaning to change the bulb, but he never remembers to do it until it's the middle of the night and he has to get up to pee. Also, now that he's thinking about it, he should really get his car into the shop to have the oil changed. It’s a hassle and it takes forever, but it's one of those things that needs to get done sooner rather than later.

He glances at you as he drives into town, wondering if you would be alright with hanging out while he got the oil changed. You are very patient and enjoy just spending time with him, but waiting around at an auto shop is notoriously boring. And it's not like he can get you in his lap and kiss you right there in those uncomfortable plastic chairs. He considers putting it off, but when is he going to have time again? His schedule is so densely packed, it's hard to find time to do anything. His career is immensely important to him, he fought tooth and nail to get here so he can definitely pay the price of having very little down time. But he still wishes his work didn't eat up so much time; it’s like a black hole, swallowing up his day off even as he tries to enjoy the time off. He certainly wouldn’t have it any other way, he'd be miserable doing literally anything else, but he cannot deny the twinge of jealousy he feels when he hears about old friends getting married, settling down, and doing stuff like going to concerts and festivals and vacations. Or just the every day things, like cooking dinner, sleeping in on the weekends, sitting down to watch a movie. Being bored. He almost misses being bored. 

He pulls into the strip near the office where he always goes for lunch. You notice the bakery, Glorious. “You wanna go to the bakery? That's the place that has those yummy donuts.”

He frowns thoughtfully. Truthfully, he's been avoiding that place. The lady that owns the place has been chatty and sweet on a very creepy level; every time he goes in there, she asks him a bunch of weird questions, like what he does for a living, how he spends his free time, other places he frequents. But looking at you, he can see how much you want to go in, so he supposes that he could make an exception this one time. “Sure, if you want to. Let's get some real food first, though.”

After a quick lunch at the sushi place, he walks with you down toward the bakery with a full belly and feeling so content, just having your hand in his as the two of you walk is almost too much for him to bear. It keeps catching him by surprise, how happy he is with you. The sunshine beating down on him, warming his skin, is nothing compared to the warmth he feels deep in his soul as he flexes his fingers gently in your grip. You start lazily swinging your arm in tandem with your walking pace, pulling him into doing the same. “You’re so cute,” he says. 

You laugh. “Don't tempt me, buddy, or I'll start skipping.”

“Oh, I'm always down for a good frolic.”

You look around at the other people walking around, then back at him. “I think frolicking is best done in a field of wildflowers, don't you?”

He shrugs. “There's too many bugs.”

“Good point,” you admit. Then, without any warning besides a mischievous grin, you start skipping down the sidewalk, pulling him along. 

Dan laughs loudly as he is forced to lengthen his stride quite a bit to keep up. He gives in almost instantly, not caring about the strangers watching as he skips alongside you. He feels like a kid again, all the worry and stress of being an adult just melts away.

You don't make it very far before dissolving into a laughing fit, at which point Dan wraps you up in his arms, partly to keep you from falling over, but mostly because he just wants to hold you close. He lifts you up off your feet, swinging you around, the sound of his breathless laughter playing harmony to yours. You keep a tight grip on him with your arms around his shoulders, even after he sets you back down. 

As he tries to catch his breath, he readjusts his grip on you and buries his face in your hair, unable and unwilling to stop smiling. “How are you even real?”

“Oh, that's easy,” you say. He can hear a similar smile in your voice. “I am a carbon-based lifeform.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re just as bad as Brian sometimes, I swear.”

He feels you pressing your lips to his jawline and cannot suppress a shiver. “I know what you meant, and I'll just say that the feeling is mutual.”

With that, you pull away and lead him to Glorious, which is only a few feet away. 

Once inside the bakery, you go to look in the cases for what you want while Dan hangs back. He isn't really feeling up to sweets at the moment, though it does smell absolutely delicious in here. He considers buying something to bring to Brian’s house, as a thanks for letting him borrow the ladder and not giving him too much shit for holding on to it for nearly four months. 

As Dan stands next to you, contemplating getting a half dozen eclairs for the Wecht family, the owner, Gloria, walks out of a door labeled ‘OFFICE’. A middle-aged woman comes out behind her, wearing a dark blue maxi dress and enough sparkling jewelry to be the human equivalent of a walking Tiffany’s store. 

“Thanks for dropping by, Mary. I'll have everything ready by the weekend; it’s always a joy to cater your parties,” the owner, Gloria, says.

Mary isn't listening at all. Instead, she has locked eyes with Dan and is staring him down like a hungry wolf. She completely brushes off Gloria, who is undisturbed and goes behind the counter as she ties on her apron. Mary stops just behind you and Dan and makes a very theatrical event out of spotting you. “___! Goodness, what luck.”

You pop up from where you had been looking at a row of cream puffs with sugar violets sprinkled on top. “Oh. It's you.”

Even Dan recoils from the disdain in your voice, but Mary isn't bothered at all. “Hello, dear. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” you shoot back. 

Mary turns to Dan. “And who is this?”

He can feel the agitation rolling off of you like a heat wave. “My boyfriend, Dan. Why are you here among the plebeians?”

Dan feels intensely uncomfortable under Mary’s scrutinizing gaze and your growing temper. He moves to grab your hand, maybe suggest that the two of you leave, but you jerk away from him. Mary watches this happen with some kind of sick amusement. She says, “My good friend Gloria is the owner, and I wanted to talk to her about catering a little party I'm having. I'm glad I ran into you, though, I keep meaning to talk to you about that photoshoot.”

You continue looking at the display cases, though Dan can tell you're not really taking in anything you're seeing. “You have my email address.”

“Yes, but technology escapes me,” Mary says with a little laugh. “Why don't you come down, say, next weekend? Saturday, around noon?”

“Fine,” you say, grinding the word out like it's made of gravel. 

“And bring this one with you,” Mary says, turning back to Dan, staring him down. “Have you ever modeled for a painter?” she asks him, throwing on so much forced sexiness he almost wants to laugh. 

You spin around at this and grab Dan by the arm. “He isn't interested. We’d better go.”

“Oh, don't leave on my account, dear. I'm just about to head out.” Dan catches her sly grin aimed at you, and an urge to protect you from this woman that you obviously don't like rises up in him like boiling water.

Before you or Mary can say anything else, he puts his arm around you and tucks you into his side. “We’re late anyway,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even. He can feel you vibrating with rage.

“Well, then, I won't keep you,” Mary remarks with a wave of her hand. She gives Dan another look, raking her eyes over his body. “Consider my offer, won't you? I would pay you awfully well to sit for me.”

He can't hold back a sneer at the implication. “No thanks. Are you ready, ___?”

You nod eagerly and he leads the way out, the happy jingle of the bell above the door sounding a lot more ominous than it had when you and he walked in. He can feel Mary and Gloria watching him leave, and it sends an unpleasant feeling crawling up his skin. 

Once you and he are outside, you make a beeline for the car, and he lets you cut ahead. He knows you will likely need a second or two to get your emotions under control before he should even attempt to talk to you about what just happened. For his part, he certainly feels unnerved; from what he can gather, he just met Mary Delvue, the painter you agreed to do a shoot for that you loathe beyond any other. She's definitely a condescending snob, and he’s had a fair bit of experience with people like that from waiting tables and working in coffee shops and such when he was younger. But there is some underlying thing about Mary Delvue that makes him uneasy. It must be that you don't like her at all, but his instinct tells him there's something more sinister going on here. Even when he's seen you around Billy, who you absolutely hate with no remorse, you have some level of control. 

When he comes up on his car, you’re leaning against the back bumper, chewing impulsively on your nails, glaring hotly out into space. He approaches carefully, but once he's entered your line of sight, you snap out of your daze just enough to soften up a bit. He gently takes your hand, stopping you from biting your nails. “Are you okay?”

You look away. “Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see her.”

He holds your hand between both of his, running his thumb slowly across your palm. “I'm sorry that happened, baby.”

You sigh, looking back up at him with resignation. “There's no reason for you to be sorry. It wasn't even your idea to go in there.”

“I know,” he says softly. “I just don't like seeing you so upset.”

You allow yourself to smile, then bring his hands to your lips to kiss them in silent thanks. 

He closes the small gap and lets you lean against him, rubbing your back in circles as the last tiny bits of anger drain out of you. As much as he wants to ask you to go into why Mary Delvue makes you so upset, he knows that now is not the time. It's more important to him to know that you’re okay. 

Once you're calm, he kisses the top of your head. “Let’s go see Brian. That'll cheer us up, right? You can meet Audrey, she's like, made of sunshine and rainbows.”

“That sounds nice,” you say as Dan pulls back just enough to look down at you, his hands framing your face. “…Can we listen to some obnoxiously loud music on the way over?”

“You got it,” he says immediately. “Are you in a Def Leppard mood, or maybe a Black Sabbath mood?”

“If you could just play Animal, I'll be happy,” you say.

“Perfect. I'll crank it all the way up.”

You get off the bumper, regaining little bit of the vigor you had before seeing Mary. “And we can sing along, right?”

He opens the passenger side door for you, relieved to see you smiling again. “Babe, you know I can't be in the presence of Def Leppard without singing along. It's like, a rule for my whole life.”

You laugh as you get into the car, and Dan shuts the door. He walks around to the driver’s side, letting out a long, relief-filled sigh. 

\--------------------

Upon arriving at Brian’s place, you have almost entirely forgotten being ambushed by Delvue, the whole scene driven out of you by the power of Def Leppard. Dan ends up playing Animal three times, clearly because you love it so much. The loud music, and singing alongside Dan as he held your hand over the center console, pulled the poison left in your veins from your temper, and now you feel quite peaceful. Even if your ears are ringing a little bit. 

Dan knocks on the front door then puts his hands in his pockets. You look around the porch. Brian certainly keeps his plants watered; there are hanging pots with colorful flowers, some bushes lining the walkway, and some hydrangeas in front. You love how charming it is, and you make a mental note to plant some flowers at Dan’s place, and maybe getting him to talk to the guy who mows his lawn about watering those poor juniper bushes. 

The door opens and Brian emerges. “Hey, Dan, this is unexpected! And you brought ___, too. Come on in,” he says, stepping aside to let you and Dan inside. 

You follow Dan in, trying not to feel out of place. Dan seems perfectly at ease, of course. “Sorry, man. I meant to text you, but I forgot. I brought your ladder.”

Brian leads the way into the house, frowning. “Ladder? What ladder?”

“The one you let me borrow forever ago!”

“Oh, that's right. You got your gutters done, then?” Brian says as the three of you enter the kitchen. You can hear some kind of a ruckus coming from another room, like someone banging on pots and pans. 

“Yes, I got it done. ___ about lost her mind, she was afraid I was gonna fall off.” Dan says, bumping you with his shoulder. 

You glare dryly at him. “Yeah, it would be so funny, you trying to perform on stage with a broken leg.”

Dan backs down immediately with a nervous laugh and you smirk, giving him a nudge back just so he knows you’re just joking. Brian watches this, bemused. “Well, we don't want that. Thanks for watching out for him, ___.”

“He does need a lot of supervision,” you say, acting at being exasperated but unable to keep from smiling as he rolls his eyes. “I don't know how you survived while you were single.”

“Me neither,” Dan admits. “I was all the time wanting to put forks in outlets and drive off cliffs. Thank god you're here to tell me not to.”

Brian laughs and starts walking toward the hallway. “I'm gonna go get Audrey, she'll be really happy to see you. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

Once Brian has left the room, Dan moseys over to the fridge and opens it, getting a bottle of water for himself. “You want something to drink, babe?”

“Water’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter. “Does it really bother you that I worry over you so much?”

He turns around with a second bottle and sets it down on the counter in front of you. “No, I was just kidding. I don't want you to worry yourself sick over me, obviously, but it's not like I never worry about you, so I guess we're even.”

You screw the cap off the bottle, scrutinizing him as he easily knocks back almost a third of his bottle. “You worry about me?”

“Of course I do, I love you, don't I?” he says, smiling.

You're about to say that you love him too, still getting butterflies over hearing him say it, when you are interrupted by the joyful shriek of a small child.

“DANNY!” 

You watch in awe as a little girl that you presume is Audrey comes running into the kitchen, with Brian following calmly as though he's used to his daughter carrying on like this. 

“Hey! My little buddy!” Dan says excitedly, kneeling down and making a big theatrical grunt as Audrey runs into him, knocking him to the floor. “Gosh, little lady, you get bigger every time I see you.”

“Imma big girl! I’m all grow’d up,” Audrey says.

“You sure are. All grow’d up,” Dan says. He stands up with Audrey on his hip, and you feel a huge surge of attraction to this scenario. There's something really endearing about how he handles the toddler; his lazy, easy-going smile, his careful grip, the way she clings easily to him. Dan glances up at you, then back to Audrey, who is already scrutinizing you with a glare so similar to Brian’s, you almost want to laugh. “Audrey, this is ___. She’s my girlfriend.”

Audrey gasps very cutely. “Girlfriend?!” she repeats in awe.

Brian, who is watching from the doorway, says, “do you know what that means, Aud? That means Danny and ___ love each other.”

You blush, but it's amplified a million times over with what Audrey says next. “Like Mommy and Daddy?”

Dan is staring at you, and you turn away, grinning sheepishly. He says, “Yes. Just like your mommy and daddy.”

Audrey starts squirming, a clear sign that she wants to be put down. Dan sets her back on her feet and she walks brazenly up to you, her little hands on her hips, clearly about to give you the business. You look down at her, amused but unsure of what to do. 

Audrey points at you, and says very loudly, “You are VERY PRETTY.”

“Oh my goodness,” you whisper, hiding your face behind your hands, unable to deal with the cuteness. You peak at her from between your fingers. “Thank you!”

She grabs your hand and starts tugging earnestly on it. “C’mon, imma show you my drums!”

You allow her to pull you along, looking to Dan helplessly. He just shrugs. “Have fun. Me and Brian will bring in that ladder.”

Audrey pulls you into a room in the back of the house, where she has a little drum kit set up next to a full-sized kit that you figure is Brian’s. She lets go and gets in the seat, picking up a set of drum sticks that are comically large in her little hands. “Okay. I play these. You play those! Like Daddy!”

You look at the (probably very expensive) acoustic drum kit with great apprehension. “Are you sure? I don't think I should mess with your daddy’s things.”

“It’s fine!” Brian says from down the hall, passing by as he and Dan go out to get the ladder. “It’s not like you're gonna break it. Aud, show her how to do a cool drum solo!”

You sit in the chair behind Brian’s kit very nervously, looking around at the whole setup while Audrey bangs on hers in a wild cacophony. You've never even touched anything this expensive. But, as it turns out, you’re about to. 

Once she's apparently finished her ‘drum solo’, you give her a lively round of applause. “That was great! You're like a little rock star.”

She giggles loudly, glowing under your praise. “Now you!” she demands, pointing at you with one of her drum sticks.

“I don't know how to play these,” you admit, but Audrey isn't having it. She gets up and passes you her drum sticks. “Hit dis one!” she says, patting the snare.

You tap it lightly with the tip of the drum stick, and Audrey shakes her head, her auburn hair bouncing with the motion. “Hit it REALLY hard!” she instructs. 

Blowing all caution out the window, you reel back and lay into the snare drum, hitting it repeatedly with some meager attempt at rhythm. Audrey claps and jumps up and down as you move from the snare to the cymbal, sending the horribly loud crashing sound reverberating through the whole house. You start hitting drums at random, not even caring about the fact that it sounds horrible. You think about Delvue, that dumb bitch, making a move on Dan. You think about Billy, adamantly refusing to let you feature new artists and groping you in his office. You think about your shitty car, your tiny, lonely apartment, the horrible commute. All of this you put into what could be loosely called drumming, but you don't care. It feels so good to just hit something. All the restless energy your temper puts in you is getting burned up with each hit.

You finally stop, a little short of breath, and Audrey claps her hands again. “Great! Great! You did it!” she chants, hopping up and down. “Okay. My turn.”

You hand back the drum sticks and watch while Audrey beats relentlessly on her little drum kit. Even though you just met her, you already love her. She's cute and feisty, and hanging out with her is easy fun. Though you can't deny that a toddler is a lot more fun than a baby, so you shove any budding desire to have kids of your own deep down where you can't acknowledge it. 

After a few more rounds on the drums, Dan and Brian walk in, presumably done with the ladder. Brian is watching Audrey with pride shining in his eyes, but Dan is watching you while you tap the pedals for the bass drum. He's leaning against the door frame, and you lock eyes with him. There’s something in his gaze that strikes you deep in your soul, making you lose track of whatever tumultuous grip you had on the rhythm. 

Once Audrey is finished unloading another mind-blowing drum solo, Brian enters the room properly. “Great job, sweetie! Dan, what do you think?”

“Holy cow, that was awesome,” he says. “You should be in our band, Audrey.”

Audrey cheers loudly, hitting the cymbal as she does. Brian walks over and plucks her from the seat. “Alright, Aud. Danny and ___ have to leave soon.”

“Nooo,” Audrey says dramatically, flopping over backwards in Brian’s arms.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Dan says. “I’ll see you again real soon, alright?”

She reaches for Dan, and he obliges, taking her from Brian so she can give him a strangling hug. You watch as his eyes bug out when she squeezes her arms around his neck. She finishes off with a sloppy, noisy kiss on his cheek before reaching for you.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “Okay.”

Dan passes Audrey off to you and she gives you the same hug she gave Dan, followed by a loud kiss on your cheek, leaving a good amount of toddler spit behind. Feeling quite honored, you set her back down on the floor and the four of you start heading towards the front door.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Brian says warmly. “I'll see you at tour rehearsal in a few days, Dan.”

“Can’t wait,” Dan says, sounding genuinely excited about the upcoming tour.

You and Dan walk outside, turning back to wave goodbye to Brian and Audrey. Dan gives you a nudge on the way to the car. “You were a hit with the kid.”

“She’s so cute,” you say. “How did Brian have such a cute kid?”

Dan laughs, that squeaky laugh that you love so much, slapping his hands together in mirth before opening the door for you. “Y’know, I think the cuteness is mostly because of Rachel.”

While Dan drives you both back to his place, you stare dreamily out the windshield, listening to Dan sing softly along with the radio, now at a much more manageable level. Before meeting Dan, seeing Delvue while out and about would've ruined your whole day. Now, the incident is just a passing moment surrounded by instances of pure bliss. 

You'll have to remember to write down in your planner that Delvue wants you to come by next weekend. While having Dan come along would be a great comfort, he'll be balls-deep in tour prep, as he and the rest of the guys will be shipping out the following Monday morning. Plus, you would never subject him to Delvue’s bullshit on purpose. You noticed how she was eyeing him, like she wanted nothing more than to get her claws into him. 

As much as you’re not looking forward to it, it'll be a relief to have it over with. You only wish Delvue hadn’t picked the Saturday before Dan leaves for the tour, but he'll be busy anyway and you don't want to distract him. The two of you have already made plans to talk via Skype as much as possible, and you already know he'll text you every chance he gets. 

He reaches for your hand, and you let him take it. You'll miss him while he's away, but you couldn't possibly be more proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, sorry it took so long to get this up. I kind of hit a wall with this chapter, so i kind of let it sit for awhile. 
> 
> I was gonna try and get to the angst in this chapter, but it looks like it'll be next chapter instead. I'm planning on one more sexual assault scene with Billy; it won't be very graphic, but it'll have some very lasting consequences in the plot. 
> 
> Also, I'm probably gonna write some Good Game fanfic, specifically Rylex. They are so cute, oh my god. So if you're into that, keep an eye out. 
> 
> Love you~


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